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THE 



SOUL IN NATURE, 



WITH 



SUPPLEMENTARY CONTRIBUTIONS. 



^Y :^^.^%^^. 



HANS CHEISTIAN OERSTED. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 
BY LEONORA AND JOANNA B. HORNER. 



LONDON: 
HENRY a. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 

1852. 






FEINTED BY HARKISOX AND SO]S^, 

LO^'DO^' GAZETTE OmCE, ST, JlAETI^^'s LA^'E; 

AND 

ORCHARD STREET. WESTMIKSTER. 



J 



1^1 



r 



TO MATHILDE OEESTED. 

We dedicate this translation to you, as a slight token of 
our friendship, and of our lively recollection of your highly 
gifted father, whose various philosophical researches you 
followed with such deep interest. We sincerely hope that 
we may, in some degree, have fulfilled your father's earnest 
wish, that a true representation of his views of Nature 
should be presented to the English Public. 

L. & J. B. HORNER. 

January-^ 1852. 



THE LIFE OP H. 0. OERSTED. 



Ik the north of Europe, and especially in Denmark, there 
appeared at the end of the last century a number of dis- 
tinguished men, among whom we may mention the names 
of Oehlenschlager, Thorwaldsen, the Swede Berzelius, the 
Norwegian Steffens, Rask, the greatest philologist of modern 
times, who died so prematurely, the philosopher Sibbern, 
and the two brothers Oersted. The younger brother still lives, 
and is the most eminent and acute jurist of the north; by 
his ardent and intellectual study of Kant and Fichte when still 
a youth, he gained for himself in the meridian of life a distin- 
guished reputation in Germany. The eldest was the physicist, 
w^hom we will now consider from a somewhat nearer point of 
view. 

Hans Christian Oersted, the subject of our present memoir, 
w^as born in the year 1777, in the little town of Rudkjoking, 
on the Island of Langeland. His brother was also born there 
in the following year. Their father was an apothecary, and 
in narrow circumstances ; he had, therefore, but little to 
spare for the education of his children, even if the small 
town in which they lived had not been almost entirely defi- 
cient in means of instruction. The young Oersteds, however, 
learned to speak and to understand German from a native of 
Germany, who lived in their neighbourhood. The eldest 
taught himself arithmetic from an old school-book, and 
immediately imparted his newly-acquired knowledge to his 
brother. Thns the two boys, eager to gain information, passed 
several years under their parents' roof, educating themselves 

h 



VIU THE LIFE OE H. C. OERSTED. 

by mutual instruction and communication. At a later period 
they acquired Latin from the lessons of a private tutor, but 
Hans Christian, in his twelfth year, was taken into the shop 
as an assistant to his father, where he soon took the greatest 
pleasure in the chemical part of his employment; at the 
same time, however, eagerly devouring all the warlike and 
historical books which fell into his hands in this retired 
spot. 

The brothers soon discovered that, supportednby the happy 
talents with which nature had endowed them, and by the 
constant exchange of the knowledge they had separately 
acquired, they might, with a little additional assistance, pass 
the examination in such a manner as to enable them to enter 
the University of Copenhagen ; and in this they were suc- 
cessful. In 1794 they went to Copenhagen, where they were 
at first, indeed, obliged to live very spai'ingly ; but they 
desired nothing better than to bury themselves in their 
studies, and they passed the two first examinations with the 
happiest results. They received some assistance from the 
Government, and supplied what was deficient by private 
lessons ; but at this point their mental paths divided. Almost 
forgetful of the surrounding world, and following inclinations 
which had manifested themselves at an early period of life, 
the younger brother immersed himself in philosophy and 
law ; the elder in astronomy, physics, and medicine. They 
still continued, however, to live together, and to impart to 
each other the results of their different studies, but they 
entered very Kttle into general society. Rarely had the 
University beheld two students who, scarcely recognizing or 
appreciating the pleasures of the exciting days of youth, 
resigned themselves wdth such eagerness and delight to an 
earnest life of study. 

Oehlenschlager, whose sister at a later period became the 
wdfe of the younger Oersted, was almost the only friend of 



THE LIFE OF H. C. OEHSTED. IX 

the two brothers. He was several years their junior, and 
formed a most decided contrast in character by his eager 
excitability, and the exulting pride of youth. This friend- 
ship of the youthful trefoil was maintained in undiminished 
intensity and freshness to the very last, when the two 
brothers, who from early youth had most intimately and 
actirely participated in the brilliant development of the cele- 
brated poet, accompanied him to his last home. But it was 
the youthful days of those three young men which pre- 
sented an amount of talent and mutual emulation, and one 
common onward striving, such as is rarely to be met with in 
history. It is well known, and it may be considered as a 
favourable circumstance, that the period of their youth hap- 
pened during the greatest mental fermentation which has 
been exhibited in modern times. A new era of politics com- 
menced in France, and of philosophy and poetry in Germany ; 
mental life was everywhere in action. Steffens returned to 
Denmark from Germany with a complete series of intellec- 
tual lectures, and stood forth as the proclaimer of the new 
philosophical and poetic Gospels, and the minds of the three 
young Danes rapidly and powerfully matured under the 
universal European spring sun. Hans Christian Oersted, 
ex'Officio a physician, but by inclination a natural philo- 
sopher, became attached to the new aesthetic tendency, which 
especially prevailed in the north, and in 1797 he gained the 
University prize (a gold medal) by a reply to the sesthetic 
prize question, " On the limits of Poetry and Prose." About 
the same time he passed his pharmaceutical examination, and 
in the following year he gained another prize, by a medical 
prize essay. In 1799 he wrote a dissertation for his doctor's 
degree on "the Architectonicks of Natufal Metaphysics," 
and by it proved that not alone had he investigated with 
clearness and originality the actual matter of his own par- 
ticular sciences, physics and chemistry; but that he had 

5 2 



X THE LIFE OF H. C. OERSTED. 

embraced the whole with a universal and philosophical per- 
ception, independent of certain prevailing systems. In the 
metaphysics of nature, he had emancipated himself in some 
essential points from Kant ; and in a criticism of Gadolins' 
Introduction to Chemistry, he exhibited a new theory of 
alkalis, which at a later period was universally adopted. 
He now (1800) undertook the charge of an apothecary's 
shop, and delivered lectures on chemistry and natural meta- 
physics. 

In the same year the galvanic battery was discovered by 
the Italian Volta, and galvanism now appeared as one of the 
most powerful forces of nature, which everywhere invited 
the disciples of science to new experiments. Oersted also 
took an active part in it, and even his first experiments led 
to new discoveries with respect to the powerful action of 
acids during the production of galvanic electricity, and of 
the relation of the opposite effects developed through the 
conductor of the battery to both poles ; while he proved that 
both acids and alkalis are produced in proportion as they 
mutually neutralize each other. 

Inspired with an earnest desire to penetrate deeper into 
the world of knowledge, he set out in 1801 upon his first 
journey into a foreign country, and there never was a more 
exciting or fertile period for an ardent spirit. Brown had 
changed the school of medicine into a battle-field, and the 
Hungarian chemist Winterl had given forth a new system in 
liis eminent work, Prolusiones, which was reserved for the 
young Dane to bring forward by means of a critique to the 
German public, by whom it had at first been little regarded. 
Oersted at that time became personally acquainted with the 
celebrated men of Germany, and he everywhere met with the 
most favourable reception: the unusual depth of his learning 
and his active mind astonished all who came in contact with 
him; and the youthful freshness of his almost childlike 



THE LIFE OF H. C. OEESTED. XI 

external demeanour won all hearts. Amidst the number of 
distinguished men with whom he had intercourse in Ger- 
many, we may especially mention SchelMng, the two brothers 
Schlegel, Fichte, Schleiermacher, Tieck, Z. Werner, Fr. 
Baader, Erman, Kielmeier, Rumford, and the mineralogists 
Hausmaun and Weiss. But he became most intimately ac- 
quainted with the celebrated physicist Bitter, who was then 
at the height of his fame. At a later period, Oersted had 
an opportunity of doing him a great service. In the winter 
of 1802-1803, he spent some time in Paris, where he 
diligently studied and mastered the French language and 
literature ; and it was just at that period that Bitter, haying 
discovered his " Pile" (Ladungsaiile), sent a treatise of it 
to Oersted, written in his peculiarly obscure style, with 
the request that he would translate it into French, that it 
might compete for the annual prize of the French Institute. 
The latter agreed to the proposal, and performed the task 
. so well, that Bitter afterwards asserted " that he understood 
the translation better than his own writing," so thoroughly 
had Oersted's pliable mind previously familiarized itself with 
the thoughts and method of the German physicist. The 
merits of the discovery were not, indeed, at that time 
appreciated by the Institute, but they were more fully 
recognized at a later period. 

Oersted returned from Paris (1803) by the route of Brussels, 
Leyden, Haarlem, and Amsterdam. At home he continued 
to be considered more in the light of a natural philosopher, 
and less as a physicist, and on that account he was unable 
to obtain the chair of physics, though it was then vacant ; 
however, for the period of thi'ee years he received an income 
of 300 bankthalers from the public purse, and an equal sum 
for experimental purposes. The University had at that time 
lost by fire all the instruments belonging to the laboratory, 
and those used for the purposes of natural philosophy; but 



SU THE LIFE OF H. C, OEHSTED. 

he fortunately received a private collection of instruments, 
by means of which be delivered lectures before a numerous 
and educated audience on electricity, galvanism, and mag- 
netism, heat, light, and combustion, in accordance, indeed, 
with the dynamic theory, which deduces all chemical effects 
from the same fundamental forces. At the same time, he 
published numerous German and Danish treatises, the most 
important of which were The Series of Acids and Bases (in 
Oehlen's Journal)^ and especially his Observatio7is on the 
History of Chemistry, which is most intimately connected 
with his scientific career, and is remarkable for pointing out 
the development and general tendency of his mind. 

Oersted's intellectual and deeply-interesting lectures, but 
especially the publication of his new experiments on the 
acoustic figures,^ at length paved the way in 1806 for his 
obtaining the professorship of physics at the University of 
Copenhagen. His active nature was now fully occupied by 
numerous public and private lectures ; he succeeded in con- 
siderably enlarging his collection of instruments, and he was 
indefatigable in making experiments ; he became teacher at 
the Academy of Land Cadets ; he delivered lectures for the 
adjutants of the general staff, and in 1809 he published his 
Manual of Mechanical Physics^ which was considerably en- 
larged and altered in 1844. The appearance of the portion 
devoted to chemistry was delayed partly by his travels, partly 
by the annual advances of science. During this ardent and 
ever enthusiastic activity in his own science, which was con- 
stantly developing itself, he refreshed himself in his private 
life by intercourse with an intellectual and stirring circle of 
society, which included the first men of his time, among 
whom were his brother, Steffens, Oehlenschlager, and the 
witty poet and critic Baggesen, w^ho was his opponent xit a 
^ater period. By intercourse with these men he was kept in 

* See the Dialogue on Tones, in the following pages. 



THE LIFE OF H. C. UEKSTED. XIU 

lively communication with the philosophical and oesthetic 
excitements of the period. Fichte also, who in 1807 spent 
some time in Copenhagen in search of repose, formed one of 
this circle. 

Oersted undertook another journey to Germany and France 
in 1812 and 1813. He remained a considerable time in 
Berlin, and, urged by Niebuhr, he there published his Views 
of the Chemical Laws of Nature, which in Paris he translated 
into French.^' We perceive by the title of the French work 
how his thoughts were already fixed in that one direction in 
which he was soon to make his name famous to the world by 
a great discovery, whose results are already proved to be of 
universal value. We need only here allude to the electro- 
magnetic telegraph, which probably without Oersted would 
not yet have existed. 

On his return to Denmark in 1814 he married; by 
which marriage he had three sons and four daughters. His 
active participation in intellectual life involved him in a 
keen literary dispute with Ginindtwig, in which he asserted 
with enthusiasm his conviction of the harmony of Reason 
with the law of Nature, and of the unfettered power of the 
judgment, in opposition to the ultramontane paradox of that 
author, who in an otherwise intellectual " world- chronicle" 
(welt'chroiiich), chose to employ the Bible, even in its most 
literal interpretation, as the exclusive standard of final de- 
cision on historical characters and events. In a university 
programme also for the year 1814 on " the technical language 
of the Gothic and German tongues employed in chemistry," 
Oersted published a series of ingenious hints in favour of a 
national scientific terminology emancipated from the Greek 
and French terminology hitherto employed, which has already 
for the most part become popular j and in a speech at a festival 
(perhaps with allusion to the orthodox Grundtwig), he repre- 

* Recherches sur Videntite des forces electriques et chimiques. 



XIV THE LIFE OF H. C. OEKSTED. 

sented the practice of science to be a religious worship. Most 
of his time was besides occupied with lectures, which during 
several winters he delivered daily for five hours; some of these 
were in German, for the corps diplomatique. He introduced 
a monthly lecture, which he continued to the last, in which he 
gradually communicated and explained all the discoveries of 
the day on experimental Natural Science ; he also about this 
time discovered a galvanic copper-cell apparatus {kupferlcasten 
apparat)^ together with a new method to blast mines. In 

1818 and 1819, by command of the king, he examined the 
Island of Bornholm, accompanied by the distinguished 
geologist Forchhammer of Holstein. This island had been 
hitherto neglected, but was mineralogically interesting, and 
rich in ironstone and coal. 

At length came the year 1820, from which may be dated 
Oersted's great fame, and called by himself the happiest year 
of his life. He discovered " electro-magnetism^' or the law of 
reciprocity hetiveen electrified bodies and the magnet. The 
actual discovery of this hitherto unknown law of nature, 
which already, in the few years that have since elapsed, has 
produced such extraordinary effects, was developed during a 
course of lectures a privatissimum, which in the winter of 

1819 and 1820 was delivered before some of the provectiores 
(the more advanced students). The original idea, however, 
whose real existence now for the first time became a fact, he 
had carried in his mind for a long period, and even in the year 
1813, in the above-mentioned work, Vieivs of Chemical Laivs 
of Nature, he had expressed his anticipation of the existence 
of a near connection between electric, galvanic, and magnetic 
currents. If galvanism, he thought, be only a hidden form 
of electricity, then magnetism can also be only electricity in a 
still more hidden form ; and his efforts were directed to the 
inquiry whether electricity in a galvanic form might not 
exercise a perceptible effect upon the magnet. His continued 



THE LIFE OF H. C. OEKSTED. XV 

experiments proved the truth of his suspicion that the voltaic 
current had an influence on the magnetised needle. He 
thought with reason, that exactly as a body, when penetrated 
by a strong current of electricity, radiates heat and light on 
every side, such might also be produced by magnetic action • 
His experience that lightning altered the poles in magnetic 
needles, which it had not struck, seemed to confirm this. 
But the true direction of the effect was still undetermined. 
He however succeeded in fully establishing it. In his lecture, 
when the decision of his long-cherished anticipation ap- 
proached with unavoidable reality, interrupting himself for a 
moment, he immediately invited his audience to a practical 
trial ; and even the first experiment was successful, though 
the effect was too feeble to give at once full validity to the 
law. It was, however, perceived that the glass was pene- 
trated by the electric current, as well as by every magnetic 
effect. 

For two centuries the opinion had been alternately accepted 
and rejected, that electricity and magnetism are produced by 
the same forces ; yet all endeavours to prove the accordance 
had been in vain. Oersted now completed the evidence by 
his renewed experiments duiing several months with a very 
large galvanic chain of copper cells, of zinc plates, and a weak 
acid ; that there is always a magnetic circulation round the 
electric conductor^ and that the electric current^ in accordance 
tvith a certain law, always exercises determined and similar 
impressions on the direction of the magnetic needle, even when 
it does not pass through the needle, but near it. Electro- 
magnetism was thus introduced into nature, not as an ex- 
ception, but as a universal force of nature, which may be 
revealed in all bodies. A concise Latin account of the dis- 
covery of the preceding experiments was simultaneously 
sent to all the European capitals of Science, and Oersted 
enjoyed the greatest and best reward ; namely, that his dis- 



XVI THE LIEE OF H. C. OERSTED. 

covery soon engaged the attention of the physicists of all 
countries ; that it was extended by zealous inquiry and re- 
peated experiments, and proved itself to be fruitful by a rapid 
succession of new discoveries ; so that now it forms the basis 
of one of the principal divisions in books of instruction. 
Eenown and honourable testimonials streamed in upon him 
from every side ; many learned societies selected him as their 
member ; the Koyal Society in London sent him the Copley 
medal, and the French Institute, as an extraordinary acknow- 
ledgment, presented him with one of the mathematical class- 
prizes, worth 3000 francs. 

We must bear in mind, when speaking of this great event 
of Oersted's life, that his services in experimental j)hysics 
were by no means confined to this single phenomenon, 
although it may have cast the others into shade. In the 
following years his labours in a new edition of his work 
on Physics led to very important experiments on the com- 
pression of vrater, and vdien engaged in these researches, he 
invented an instrument by which a more certain method was 
attained of compressing liquids. By repeated experiments 
he succeeded at a later period to point out the hitherto 
doubted validity of the so-called law of Mariotti (for the 
compression of the air), even for a greater amount of pres- 
sure, up to the point where the gases become liquid. He 
proved the existence of a metal in alumina, and invented a 
method of separating it; farther, a ne\v method to make 
chlorides out of oxides. 

• Assisted by the Government, Oersted nndertook a third 
journey to Germany, France, and England, in 1822-23; he 
was chiefly occupied v/ith the latest discoveries on light, and 
he brought back a number of important instruments. On 
his return home, he founded the Society for the Distri- 
bution of Natural Science, which, among other things, was 
the occasion of public lectures being delivered by its pupils 



THE LIFE OF H. C. OERSTED. XVll 

in the most important towTis in the country. In 1823-24 
he delivered a course of French lectui-es; and in 1828 
travelled in Norway, and also visited Berlin, where he made 
an address in the Society of Naturalists, as he did like- 
wise in Hamburgh in 1830. In 1834 he visited Gauss in 
Gottingen, that he might become better acquainted with his 
recent observations on magnetism, by which he was impelled 
to establish a magnetic observatory in Copenhagen. He took 
an active part in the Scandinavian meetings of Naturalists, 
which since the year 1839 had met every three years in one of 
the northern kingdoms. He attended the meeting at Gothe- 
borg in 1839, and those at Copenhagen in 1840 and 1847; 
the Stockholm meeting in 1842, and that at Christiania in 
1844. The principal speeches and papers he delivered, are 
published in the folio ^ving volume. In 1836 he again visited 
Paris and England, and attended the Scientific Meeting at 
Southampton in September of that year. At the closing 
General Meeting the following words were spoken by Sir 
John Herschel, whieh may be inserted here to show the 
appreciation in which Professor Oersted was held by the 
philosophers of England : — 

" In science there was but one direction which the needle 
would take, when pointed towards the European continent, 
and that was towards his esteemed friend Professor Oersted. 
He knew not how to speak of him in his presence, without 
violating some of that sanctity by which, as an individual, he 
was surrounded. To look at his calm manner, who could 
think that he wielded such an intense power, capable of 
altering the whole state of science, and almost convulsing the 
knowledge of the world. He had at this meeting developed 
to them some of those recondite and remarkable powers 
which he had been himself the first to discover, and which 
went almost to the extent of obliging them to alter their 
views on the most ordinary laws of force and of motion. He 



XVlll THE LIFE OP H. C. OERSTED. 

elaborated his ideas with slowness and certainty, bringing 
them forward only after a long lapse of time. How often did 
he (Sir John Hersehel) wash to heaven that he could trample 
down, and strike for ever to the earth, the hasty generalisa- 
tion which marked the present age, and bring up another and 
a more safe system of investigation, such as that which 
marked the inquiries of his friend. It was in the deep re- 
cesses, as it were of a cell, that in the midst of his study, a 
far idea first struck upon the mind of Oersted. He waited 
calmly and long for the dawn which at length opened upon 
him, altering the whole relations of science and, he might 
say, of life, until they knew not where he would lead them to. 
The electric telegraph, and other wonders of modern science, 
were but mere effervescences from the surface of this deep 
recondite discovery, which Oersted had liberated, and which 
was yet to burst with all its mighty force upon the world. 
If we were to characterise by any figure the advantage of 
Oersted to science, he would regard him as a fertilizing 
shower descending from heaven, which brought forth a new 
crop, delightful to the eye and pleasing to the heart." 

Oersted quitted England at the close of the Southampton 
Meeting, and joined the Association at Kiel on his road home. 

"With reference to his worldly position, he had become Sec- 
retary to the Royal Society of Sciences in Copenhagen, Pro- 
fessor Ordinarius, a Corresponding Member of the Academy 
of Sciences in the French Institute, Director of the Poly- 
technic School at Copenhagen, which he had himself created 
by the personal influence he possessed with Frederick VI. 
In 1837 he was made Knight of the Legion of Honour, in 
1840 " Conferenz-rath," in 1842 he was made Knight of the 
Prussian Order " pour le Merite dansles Sciences et les Arts," 
in 1843 he received from Erlangen the diploma of honour 
as Doctor of Medicine, and in 1847 the Grand Cross of 
Dannebrog. 



THE LIFE OF H. C. OERSTED. XIX 

His extensive and various practical activity did not, mean- 
while, hinder him from taking an animated and lively interest 
in the development of Danish literature, and in the political 
life which was awakened at a later period. The most influen- 
tial newspapers frequently contained contributions from his 
pen, and in 1829 he appeared as a fellow-founder and a 
zealous co-operator in a literary monthly journal, which con- 
tinued to exist till the year 1838. This was a most merito- 
rious undertaking, by which limits were at length placed to the 
un intellectual tendency of Danish criticism which existed at 
that period, and which, like a hostile stream, threatened to 
destroy the healthy feeling for science and art. In the various 
criticisms of aesthetic and scientific works, which he published 
through this medium, as well as in treatises and essays which 
were otherwise distributed, he always exhibited an inclination, 
combined with rare capacity, to popularize general intelli- 
gence, and especially the knowledge of natural science, and 
to render it fruitful in the widest circles. Thus the whole 
course of his long life ofiers a rare example of indefatigable 
activity and of honest and many-sided effort. A long lyric 
and didactic poem which he composed. The Balloon^ was 
translated into German by Johannsen, the minister of the 
German congregation in Copenhagen, in 1836. 

As a teacher at the University he was always much beloved, 
from his unassuming manners, and his simple gentle demea- 
nour in the delivery of his lectures, which, nevertheless, 
breathed an ardent spirit which could not be mistaken. He 
always met older as well as younger students, who needed 
any scientific explanation and assistance, in the most friendly 
manner, and, in many cases, where talent had to struggle 
with material obstacles, his kindly heart was even more than 
usually alert. Not alone naturalists, but all who were culti- 
vated among the younger generation of Denmark, were his 
pupils. He not only benefited men by his labours, he was 



XX THE LIFE OP H. C. OERSTED; 

also the first who began to give popular and scientific lectures 
to ladies, and by so doing he never relinquished the poetic 
and (Bsthetic interests which marked the stirring period of his 
youth. The freshness and activity of his powers of compre- 
hension, which continued to the last, and his agreeable, as well 
as instructive manner of representation, not unfrequently 
remind us of Alexander von Humboldt. In Denmark, with 
its single University, all people of education form one family, 
more than in other countries ; and among the thousands 
who attended his lectures during nearly half a century, not 
only did each of them carry home profit and a fresh stimulus 
from his words, but also a pleasing image of his friendly 
countenance, which was so often lighted up with genuine 
deKght on the subjects of his lecture, and in the experiments 
which he exhibited. Not unfrequently in a fiow of ideas and 
fancies, he was overcome by a certain absence of mind, but 
this was so completely a part of himself that it admitted of 
no censm^e ; indeed, his audience would have been unwilling 
to lose it. 

Since the year 1834, when liberal constitutional ideas 
began to stir themselves in Danish politics, and when the 
old forms began to be shaken, Oersted freely attached him- 
self to the deliberate movement in advance, and by his popu- 
larity among the students, he had a calming and reasoning 
influence during periods of exitement; in 1835 he co-ope- 
rated in the foundation of the society for freedom of the 
press ; and when Christian YIII. ascended the throne, he 
addressed this prince, with whom, from the common love of 
natural science, he stood in close connection, in a speech af 
a most liberal tendency, proclaiming him to be the judge 
and representative of the enlarged liberal ideas of latter 
times. Nevertheless, Oersted's position and inclinations as 
a man of science necessarily hindered him from taking a 
direct part in the political life which was now developing 



THE LIFE OF H. C. OERSTED. XXI 

itself, but even here he continued to view, with lively interest, 
the active force of Nature and Reason. 

On the 7th of November, 1850, a jubilee was held in 
honour of the fiftieth anniversary of Oersted's long and 
eminent services, at the University of Copenhagen. Depu- 
tations from the king, from the ministers, from the professors, 
and the students of the University, from the Polytechnic and 
Industrial Schools, flocked to him from all parts. Political 
differences were laid aside, and people of all ranks and opinions 
imited in testifying their respect and affection to the old man, 
who, though in his seventy- third year, still retained youthful 
-vigour, both in body and mind. The king presented him with 
new honours, and by the influence of his friends he received 
from Government a country residence near Copenhagen, which 
had been formerly inhabited by Oehlenschlager. A torch-light 
procession, conducted by the students, who sang verses in his 
honour, concluded the festivities of this day, which had 
throughout been of the most gratifying nature, for, by the 
description of an eye-witness, they were evidently prompted 
by the hearts of those who assisted in them. Winter passed, 
and Professor Oersted, ever active in mind and body, pur- 
sued his customary avocations of lectures and literary occu- 
pations, till the beginning of March, 1851, when he was 
attacked by cold, from which at first no serious apprehensions 
were entertained by himself or by his family. In a few days, 
however, mfiammation in the chest ensued ; he suffered little 
or no pain, but his strength rapidly declined, and on the 9th 
of March, scarcely a week from the commencement of his ill- 
ness, he expired, surrounded by his afflicted family, and 
deeply regretted by the whole city of Copenhagen. His 
fellow- citizens, vsdio a few months before had joined in ex- 
pressing their gratitude for his long services to the University, 
novv- sought to alleviate their sorrow by contributing their 
share in the last proofs of affection and respect vrhich were 



•XXll THE LIFE OF H. C. OERSTED. 

paid to their departed friend. On Sunday, tlie 1 6th of March, 
about a hundred scholars went in procession to the house 
of the deceased, where they laid a silver wreath upon his 
coffin, and after singing some verses w^hich w^ere composed 
for the occasion, they bore it, surrounded by torch-bearers, 
to the University, where it was laid in state in a hail hung 
with black. Here it remained till Tuesday, the 18th, when 
it was removed to the principal church (the Frue Kirche). 
The coffin w^as borne by the students of the Polytechnic 
School, and was attended by a procession headed by General 
Major von Scholler, who represented the King of Denmark. 
Then follow^ed his Eoyal Highness the Hereditary Prince of 
Denmark, the Chamberlain, Baron Juel Rysensteen, repre- 
senting her Majesty the Queen Dowager, Marie Sophie Frede- 
rica; the relations of the deceased, the Eector Magnificus 
of the Theological Faculty and the Clergy of Copenhagen, 
the Professors of the University, members of scientihc socie- 
ties, the Ministers, Foreign Ambassadors, a deputation from 
the Industrial Association, &c. A great number of all 
classes followed, so that the whole procession amounted to 
about 2000. A funeral march v/as performed as they passed 
along, and the bells continued to toll till they reached the 
principal entrance of the chmxh, before which was arranged 
a guard of honour belonging to the civic infantry. The in- 
terior of the church \vas hung with black, and illuminated 
by candles. The coffin w^as placed on a catafalque in the 
<jentre, and the mournful ceremony was concluded by some 
more verses from the students, and an oration from Dean 
Tryde. The nearest relations of the deceased accompanied the 
coffin to the churchyard, where Pastor P. Hasle, the son-in- 
law of the deceased, spoke the last farewell Avords over the 
^rave. — {From the Biographical Sketch hy P. L, Moller, ^c.) 



CONTENTS. 



The following Papers have been arranged without any 
reference to the different periods of time in which they were 
written, but as they might best serve to introduce, illustrate, 
or complete each other. 

The Spieitual in the Mateeial. (A Conyeesation) . i)p. 1 — 27 

Two views of the world, the one proceeding from the consideration 

of the Spiritnal, the other from that of the Material, which must 

be reconciled. 
What we know most immediately of bodies is, that they appear as 

spaces, capable of producing effects. 
The Material, as such, is subject to incessant change. 
"We may first of all assert that the Invariable, which exists in 

the changes of bodies, is the Unity of Thought, which we meet 

there. 
This Unity of Thought, however, does not belong to us, but to 

IvTature, for the laws of Nature are constant, and are at the same 

time laws of Eeason : 
Yet not proceeding fr^om our Eeason, but fr'om that Eeason which 

prevails throughout the universe. 
May not this opinion of the general validity of Eeason have 

originated fr'om the essential pecuharity of our minds ? 
Eefatation of this doubt. 
Different remarks upon questions, which are to be afterwards 

explained. 
A representation of the Variable farther developed, and the im- 
portance of seeking for the Invariable in it. 
The essence of a thing is determined by the combination of those 

laws, according to which all the effects which take place in it 

occm\ These laws are properly called the Thoughts of Nature. 
c 



XXIV CONTENTS. 

Tliey constitute a oneness in every Essence, vvhicli may be called 
the Thought of the Essence, the Idea of the thing. 

This Idea is not a mere Thought but is realized through the forces 
which govern all things. The Essence of a thing is therefore its 
living Idea. 

Ideas find a perfect realization in Nature. 

Kenewed doubts, whether the material of which things are com- 
posed, does not give them their pecuharity; and the answer. 

Each thing is only part of a combination of things, v^liich again is 
part of a more comprehensive combmation, itself belonging to 
a still higher, and so on to infinity; it is the same vdtli Ideas, 
of which they are the realization. Therefore the whole of 
existence is the work and revelation of living Universal Keason. 

The reconciliation of the Thought of the essential similarity of 
Matter and Spirit consists in this, that the Material and the 
Spiritual are inseparably united in the creative Thoughts of the 
Almighty. 

The Fountain pp. 28 — iO 

Bepose beside a large fountain, and the impression it makes. 

A demand for an explanation of this impression, and in what signi- 
fication of the word it may be expected. 

The impression that is produced by the water rising contrary to its 
gravity. 

The impression that is produced by the increasing size of the rising 
jet of water. 

The impression that is produced by the inward movement of the 
jet, and the consequent dispersion of the separate parts. 

The different impressions produced by the sound of the falling drops. 

The Beautiful exhibited in the figure which is described by the drops 
in their fall. 

The connection of Reason contained in the combination of effects, is 
comprehended with pleasure by the inner sense, which is not 
indeed conscious of this Keason, though it derived its essence 
from All- governing Reason. 

The various effects of light m the fountain increase the animation of 
the impression. 

The impressions wliich are i>roduced by fountains of different magni- 
tudes and forces. 

The impression of beauty in the Sublime and in the Great. 

The impression of beauty in that wliich is full of life. 

The Subhme, the Living, the Harmonious, considered as forms of 
beauty. 

Reference to the eternal source of the Beautiful. 



CONTENTS. XXV 

The Compeehejs^siox of Natuee by TnorGiiT a>^d Imagination 

pp. 41 — 55 

Tlie struggle commonly prevailing between tlic comprehension of 
Katm-e by tlie imderstanding and by tlie imagination is the 
result of a defective education. 

A perfect education at least requires that we should be just as well 
acquainted with Nature, as vrith the fabulous world. 

How this contributes to self-lmowledge is illustrated by an astro- 
nomical example. 

There is something in the impression produced by the starry 
heavens which is common to all men, but it contains much 
besides, which gradually increases at every higher step of 
education. 

The general impression of the starry heavens without the inter- 
vention of moonhghtu 

A moonhght night. 

The impression of the stars on man in a savage state. 

The impression on men whose powers of perception are somewhat 
awakened. 

The impression on men who have reached the first step in astro- 
nomical knowledge. We here meet with higher, though still 
somewhat limited, notions of the magnitude and order of the 
world. 

Slight alteration in these views, from ancient times to the days of 
Copernicus. The period commencing with hhn is taken as a 
whole. 

In order that the results of scientific measurements of the universe 
may be comprehended by the Imagination, they must be sub- 
mitted to its influence. 

The same with reference to relations of time. 

The impression of the starry firmament upon one who has cultivated 
his Imagination by means of a clear comprehension of the System 
of the universe. 

The result of our reflections is the belief that rational beings are 
distributed throughout the Universe. 

The still more sublime impression, which is made on those w^ho are 
thoroughly convinced that all existence is a dominion of Keason. 

Sttpeestition and Infidelity in theie eelation to Natueal 
Science ........ pp. 56 — 90 

1. The 'nature of Siij^erstition and Infidelity . . . p. 56 

An investigation of this subject is even now by no means superfluous. 
A preluninary warning to those who attribute more than a casual 
comiection between Superstition and Faith or Poetry. 
c 2 



XX"Va CONTENTS. 

Superstition is a tendency to believe something out of the ordinary 

course of Nature. 
Since Nature, however, is the unceasing work of Eternal Reason, 

Superstition is a tendency to believe in what is unreasonable. 
This tendency is the degenerate state of an originally well-disposed 

mind. 
Infidelity consists in a tendency to reject all direct certainty which 

does not proceed from the impressions of the senses. 

2. The origin of Superstition and Infidelity, and their mode of develop- 
ment p. 61 

The Beauty of the earliest comprehension of the world by man, 
must be itself destroyed by the forces of the world in order that 
the human race may be led to a higher point. 

The enlightenment of the Understanding on natural events rouses 
in some people doubts concerning old opinions, in others a 
stronger attachment to them, and a hatred of new ideas. 

3. The Middle Ages an example of a period of Superstition . p. 65 

Christianity could not abolish that kind of Superstition which 

sought for aid from the devil. 
Man's false comprehension has mingled the grossest Superstition 

with Religion. 
We must set up the truth of History as a testimony against the 

one-sided eulogist of the Middle Ages. 

4. The injurious effects which Superstition exercises on all the concerns 
of life , . . p. 67 

5. On the supposed Poetry of Superstition . . . . p. 69 

It is not necessary for the creatures invented by Superstition to 
partake in external reality in order to receive poetical value; it is 
a prosaic error to demand this for the sake of poetry. 

A true insight into things cannot approve of the arrogance with 
which some poetical works endeavour to give an external reality 
to those powers of darkness created by Superstition. The true 
kingdom of the Beautiful is a kingdom of Reason. 

The desire entertained by some people to restore Superstition is 
wrong on this account, that no one is serious in desiring it, and 
that it only misleads some people into a behef in fictitious Beings. 

A gross abuse of the words poetic and prosaic. 

Natural Science certainly limits the poet with respect to the use of 
some representations which are contrary to reason; but — ^besides 
granting him rich compensation as a man, by higher insight into 



CONTENTS. XXVll 

Nature — she unfolds to him a new and rich poetical \Yorld, 
hitherto hut little employed. 

6. The effects of Infidelity p. 76 

Infidehty is in fact as injm-ious as Superstition; hut since it is 
usually created hy the progress of Science, its suppression is more 
easily accomphshed by still further progress. 
Meanwhile it may give an ascendancy, which leads the country and 

its inhabitants to destruction. 
At all tunes, there will he many who will neither be ruled by Super- 
stition nor by Infidehty. 

V, How Science counteracts Superstition • • • . p. 78 

The eradication of particular notions is not the only effect per- 
formed by Science in its extirpation of Superstition, but it also 
exercises an influence by the spirit which it awakens. 

The destructive manner in which Science operates against Super- 
stition is more fully exhibited in a series of connected examples, 
whose chief force, in short, lies in this, that Nature is by tliem 
represented as governed by eternal laws of Reason. 

Several examples. 

The constant increase of an influential application of Natural 
Science in life, awakens an acti\dty of thought, which is des- 
tructive to Superstition even among the liitherto less -educated 



About Superstitious notions wliich have no origin in Nature. 

He who has duly appropriated the philosophy of Nature through his 
mental perception, as a rational Whole, must above all vigorously 
reject Superstition, which cannot, on the other hand, by one-sided 
knowledge be always excluded in particular directions. 

S. The Influence of Natural Science when ojpjposed to Infidelity . p. 86 

Natural Science, indeed, herself refutes many false notions which 
she has occasioned; but the Harmony and the consequent Necessity 
which is exhibited in everything, is easily mistaken for a bhnd 
Necessity which precedes Reason, and is not comprehended as 
her result. 

It is not sufficient here to recollect, that many naturahsts have 
referred to a purpose and a plan in Nature, for the idea of 
necessity appears to contradict them : 

But Natural Science exhibits to us the whole world as the work of 
the Divinity. 

Necessity indeed appears to exclude the idea of independent wisdom, 
but they aie indissolubly united in Eternal Reason. 



XXVlll CONTENTS. 

All Existence a Dominion oe Reason . . pp. 91 — 133 

1. The 'Essential Unity of Intelligence tJirougliout the Universe . p. 91 

This subject must be associated wdth Natural Science. 

It must not be disdained, because our knowledge of it is still far 
from perfect. 

The subject is not treated in a metaphysical manner. 

Unity of Essence does not exclude the greatest variety in the forms 
of Existence. 

The subject must be so treated as to represent truths for our con- 
templation. 

A comiected series of examples to show that the laws of motion are 

' ' founded in Reason. 

An inhabitant of Jupiter must recognize the laws acknowledged by 
us in the world sm*rounding him ; and he would take a false view 
of these w^ere his understanding faculty fundamentally diiferent 
from our own. 

Doubts of the correctness of our comprehension are refuted by the 
countless number of various and exact agreements between 
predicted and actual events in the Heavens. 

Further considerations of the peculiar comprehension of Nature 
which we suppose belongs to an inhabitant of Jupiter. 

Examples to illustrate the possibihty of great dissimilarities existing 

I together with similar essential unity. 

Further development of the essential similarity of the understanding 
faculty in the inhabitants of Jupiter and those of our globe. 

"Wliat has been said of the inhabitants of Jupiter may be apphed in 
all essential matters, not only to the understanding faculty of the 
inhabitants of the other planets of our solar system, but still 
farther to those of the whole Universe. 

The laws of Light are laws of Reason. 

They are vahd for the whole Universe. 

It is shown in what manner essential similarity in the apprehension 
may be coupled vAt\\ great differences. 

As the effect of sound depends on vibrations vvhich may occur in 
all bodies, so beings who are conscious of their corporeal con- 
dition, must have sensations wliich correspond to the sensation of 
sound. 

Transition to the consideration of the worldly signification of the 
chemical laws of Nature. 

Tlie laws of Electricity, Galvanism, and Magnetism, arc laws of 
Reason. 

Historical remarks and anticipations on the development of Che- 
mistry. 

The properties which on earth we call universal, are equally so 
throughout the Universe. 



CONTENTS. XXIX 

The validity of the laws of Heat through the whole Universe, 

The universality of the laws of Electricity an additional proof for 
the universality of the naturiil laws of Chemistry. 

A distinguished chemist, who thought he had found some grounds 
in his science to doubt the miiversal relation of gravity to the 
mass, tested them himself by experiment, and found his doubts 
refuted. 

The similarity of matter in the Universe is confirmed by meteoric 
stones. 

The other planets have been produced accordhig to the same laws as 
the earth. As Man is the highest product of terrestrial deve- 
lopment, the self-conscious beings of other planets must be the 
products of their development. If they are all produced according 
to the same laws, they must all have a fundamental similarity in 
the faculty of their Understanding. 

2. The fandamental similarity of the Laivs of beauty in tlie TJni- 
'verse .......... p. 109 

The essential similarity of the miderstanding and the sensational 
faculties is accompanied by the sense of Beauty. 

The sense of Beauty m the inhabitants of earth rests on the capa- 
bility of recei\ing sensational impressions, and is produced in 
conformity v/ith the sa.me laws of Reason as the rest of Exist- 
ence ; by its reasonable nature it bestow^s a feeling of satisfaction: 
the same law must also prevail in the remaining portion of the 
Universe. 

This is illustrated by examples taken from Figm'es and Forms. 

Examples of the effects of Light. 

Examples of the effects of Sound. 

3. The essential princi;ples of Morality the same throughout the 
Universe ......... p. 114 

We again begin with the considera^tion of the inhabitants of Earth, 
and it is show^i how the will of free beings stands in subordina- 
tion to the eternal laws of !N"ature. 

The human race begins hke the individual man, with simple facul- 
ties, which are to be developed by reciprocal influence with the 
rest of the world. 

Ah'eady at the earliest stage in the development of* the human race 
we discover a feeble germ of the consciousness of a God. 

The earliest natural development of the consciousness of Duty and 
Vu-tue. 

The more highly gifted Spirits lead and guide this development, and 
in so doing feel themselves inspired. 

The still further development of the idea of a God. 



XXX CONTENTS. 

In tills development Natural Science contributes mucli to the 

banislunent of idols. 
jjjj Oscillations in this development. 

]Rf The various systems of morality instituted by thinkers, all point to 

the Truth, that our will and our life must accord with Eternal 

Eeason. 
The trials which originate in Material Nature can only be rightly 

estimated when placed beside moral aberrations, and all the other 

errors belonging to mortahty. 
The true meaning of the opposition between God and the world. 
How the abuse of human freedom has not the power to disturb the 

order of Eternal Reason. 
The abuse of human freedom is still further exliibited, as an infinitely 

small effect, in connection mth the whole. 
These considerations, when combmed, lead to the conviction that 

spiritual life on earth, in spite of many oscillations, develops itself 

more and more towards the realization of a kingdom of Reason. 
The knowledge, insight, and faith of Man as an individual, are far 

from being exclusively his o^vn work. 
An application of the preceding remarks to the inhabitants of other 

planets. 
Caution is requisite in this application. 

4. On the Intercommunication lohich exists between the IBloAiets, p. 130 

Inasmuch as we possess some knowledge of the condition of other 

planets, those on other planets may also have some knowledge of 

the condition of ours. 
Historical warning for doubters. 
We progress in our knowledge of the condition of other planets. 

In many of them they have probably advanced far before us. 
A pecuHar kind of Rational connection is developed through the 

whole Universe between finite thhiking beings. 

The Cultiyation of Science coksideeed as an exeecise of 
RELiaiON • PP- 134 — 142 

Introductory words. A festival at our University, commemorating 
the Reformation, requires us to oppose the errors which threaten 
us, by watching the balance of truth, from which these would lead 
us away. 

It is shown how the peculiar nature of Science requires that its 
cultivation should develop itself through Rehgion. 

It belongs to the nature of Inquiry to search for the Eternal in 
things. 

The fundamental forms of Eternal Reason are : Independence, 
Activity, and Harmony. 



CONTENTS. XXXI 

The same fundamental forms are met with in the Beautiful ; namely, 
the Sublime, the Inspiring, and the Harmonious. 

The Good we are to seek must be the really Imperishable. 

Morality here becomes Religion, and requires that, with all our 
power, we should preserve the unage of God witliin us, and 
realize his Will. 

Tlie forms of Virtue are : Independence, Activity, and Harmony. 
Its nature is briefly showTi, and the duty is pointed out of spread- 
ing the kingdom of Reason. 

The same duty requires that we should endeavour to attain scientific 
perfection in art, which imphes thorough knowledge, clearness, 
and harmony. 

It does not follow as part of our duty to Science, that every one 
should study Science. The high calhng of the Man of Science. 

From this follow^s an encom-agement to young scientific men. 

The Relation between Natural Science and Poetey. 

pp. 143—163 

The Remarks of Bishop Mynster upon the Soul in Natm-e gave 

occasion to these remarks. 
The Thoughts of the Author upon the relation betw^een Natm-al 

Science and Poetry, deviate far less from those of Bishop Mynster 

than w^as supposed by the latter. 
The Author, namely, did not intend to say, that poets ought to 

exclude the sensational conceptions of nature from their works, 

when it did not harmonize with the scientific conception; but 

only that when they speak as men of the present day, they ought 

to avoid the false opinions formerly held upon the causes of 

things. 
When our minds are transplanted into the life of ancient times, 

such false opinions are not discordant, but may be used with 

great effect. 
An example of the want of harmony in the effect which a modern 

poetical work has sustained by scientific discovery. 
The Author only considers Schiller's '' Gods of Greece" as the 

expression of a poetical fancy, which proves nothing against 

Natural Science. 
The Author's mode of apprehension contains nothing w^liich lowers 

Genius. 
Juxtaposition of the propositions referring to the relation between 

Natural Science and Poetry, in which the Author is of opinion 

that most people will easily agree v/ith him. 
Further explanations upon the importance of Natural Science to 

Poetry. 
A passage is cited from the poem, " The Balloon," in opposition to 

expressions understood literally in Schiller's " Gods of Greece.'* 



xxxu contents. 

The Relation op Natitkal Sciei^ce to vaeious impoetant 
Religious Subjects pp. 164. — 191 

%\ ' 1, The Invariability of tlie Laws of Nature . , . p. 164 

|! I That ]N"atural Laws -under different circumstances are accompanied 

by different effects, is not opposed to their Invariability. 

Altered circumstances themselves occm- pxcording to Natural Laws. 

Explanatory examples, taken from the Lav/s of Motion and Attrac- 
tion, considered in their validity through the whole of Existence. 

Examples from Chemistry. 
,^*^ Examples from Vegetable Life. 

A connected series of examples taken from the History of the 
development of the earth. 

The Idea of the possibility of an existence which might appear, if 
the present universe were one day to perish, can have no influence 
upon our conceptions of the existing universe, and is therefore 
subject to no investigation here. 

We should not allow our wishes to influence ou-r Examination of 
Truth. 

2» Can tlie Government of God dis^ejise ivith Ms arbitrary Will ? p. 172 

^Vhile people are unanimous in ascribing the highest wisdom to the 
Divine govermnent, opinions are divided upon the question, how 
ikr the effects of human freedom necessitate particular influential 
Acts of the Divinity beyond the usual legislation of Reason, or 
whether these effects are arranged in subordination to the 
Rational order of the Whole, by the Eternal Laws themselves. 

The Author, who assumes the latter opinion, illustrates it through 
exam^ples : A, drawn from Machines; B, fr-om human arrange- 
ments. 

The Inexplicable in events may be equally used as an objection 
against one or other of the opposed opinions. 

It is a false idea to suppose that because we assume that the 
government of God happens according to Eternal Laws, we must 
necessarily represent God as inactive. 

3. The Development from the lower to the higher . . p. 181 

Everything in natm-e begins from something undeveloped, and 
r-"""^ progresses to higher and liigher stages of development ; not the 

reverse. 
History has not exhibited a view in opposition to tliis with respect 

to nations. 
That the whole of Nature was corrupted by the Fall may be refuted 

upon siu-e grounds. 



CONTENTS. XXXm 

Some ex})lanations in reference to wliat I liave said about Faith 

p. 183 

The confidence which is awakened in us by those words of wisdom 
tlu'oiigh which the Prophets of the human race have shown us 
what is liiddeii in the mifathomed depths of oiu* own nature, 
can by no means be called Authority on Faith. 

How Faith is awakened and strengthened by Divine influence in our 
daily hfe. 

lieason hidden in the Poivers of the Soul . •* . j)* ^^^ 

If it appears that the Author grants too much to Reason, this 
arises perhaps because he has not sufficiently brought forward the 
difference between the two significations by which he understands 
the word, a limited and a more extensive one ; the limited is the 
most usual, Eeason itself known as Keason ; the more extensive 
on the other hand also includes within it the Reason pervading 
everything, wliich constitutes that which is necessary to all 
actions. 

God and the World p. 187 

The Author is here again obliged to dispute the opinion, that Nature 
is dark and troubled. It only appears imperfect and decayed 
in the conception of the finite being. 

The Author does not think that this doctrine is at variance with 
Christianity. 

Complimits concerning the imperfection of the world pre -suppose 
the secret demand that mortality should not be Fhiite. 

Nature itself is infinite; the more man's apprehension represents 
to him the parts as separated from the Whole, so much the 
more Nature appears to him as Finite. The image of Existence 
which is formed m the mind of man is darker and smaller in 
proportion as the stage of development upon which he stands is 
lower; but the more a man possesses comprehensive perception 
of the world, so much the more he participates in the rational 
life of the Whole, so much the more perfectly he sees God in 
Nature. 

In the perception which God takes of the world, the Finite, as the 
Finite, has vanished. 

Ox THE INTELLECTUAL IXTLIJENCE EXEECISED BY NaTUEAL SCIENCE 
IS ITS PEACTICAL APPLICATION . . . pp. 192 — 204 

An Introduction especially referring to the effect which the dis- 
coveries in the material world have upon minds. 



XXXIV COXTENTS. 

Natural Science is necessary, in order to complete the education 
which, at present prevails, and to free it from oue-sidedness. 

As Natm^al Science miinteriuptedly progresses towards new disco- 
veries, it has a refresliing influence upon the mind. 

It leads to action, and by that means comiteracts artificial dreami- 
ness, which other education camiot alone accomphsh. 

He who educates himself by Natural Science has especial means to 
influence others in an intellectual manner. 

Natural Science opens to artizans the most accessible road to culti- 
vation. 

The injurious effect of false du-ections in education, which the 
distribution of Natural Science may occasion, is inconsiderable hi 
comparison wdth its truly civihzing influence. 

That which artizans have to learn from Natural Science will not be 
too difficult for them. 

Men of Science and artizans should respectively possess a knowledge 
of their several departments, and act on both sides with mutual 
confidence. 

The artizan mil only succeed and exercise an important influence on 
his own welfare and that of liis country, when he understands 
the principles by which he acts, and is able to make discoveries 
himself. 

Expectations of the future benefits resulting from the Institution. 

Eejoicing in what has taken place among us in Science, and what 
does still take place. 

Speeches deliyeeed at two dieeeeent Scakdikayian Scientieic 
Meetings pp. 205 — 223 

1. SjpeecJi at tJie First Meeting of the Scandinavian Naturalists at 
Copenhagen ........ p. 205 

The Scandinavian Naturalist Meetings will not only have an 
influence on Natural Science, but also on the national spirit of 
the north. 

The Naturalist Meetings of the present day have for the most part 
not merely a scientific, but also a universally humanizing effect, 
and this not alone for the scientific men themselves ; the people 
must also be taken into consideration. 

Some of the effects proceeding from the personal meetings of Natu- 
ralists in the three northern kingdoms. 

Effect of the friendly relations which, taken as a whole, prevail 
between Naturahsts. 

The influence of Natural Science upon Society, and the cultivation 
of the mind, advances so rapidly, that it also promises a great 
uniting eflect in Scandinavia. 



CONTENTS. XXXV 

How important it is that the literatures of Scandinavia should 
appear as one literature, which may occur, without on that ac- 
comit either of the three resigning its peculiar character. WTiile 
the scientific efforts of the northern nations mutually bind them 
to each other, they yet will not neglect to join still more closely 
in scientific fellowship with other nations. 

Some proposals. 

3. Speech at the opening of the Fifth Meeting of the Scandinavian 
^Naturalists ........ p. 214! 

Recapitulation of the ideas on the united scientific and national acti- 
vity by which the first Copenhagen Naturalist Meeting began. 

The attention is repeatedly tm^ned upon the fraternity of languages. 

It appears, that I^atural Science is and must be susceptible of a 
national treatment, as well as a learned treatment ; and that it 
may thus exercise a great influence both upon the development 
of language and upon the cultivation of the mind. 

The objection w^hich is brought forward against the great national 
influence of Natural Science, that it is not an affair of the people, 
is founded upon a misunderstanding, and wiU be destroyed in the 
further development of Natural Science. 

Of the School in Life pp. 224 — 243 

1. The Relation hetween the Young and Old, ivith especial reference to 
young men on their first entrance into the world . . p. 224 

Introductory words. 

The Author wishes to consider the relation between young and old, 

according to the method of Natm-alists, whilst he determmes upon 

those laws of existence by which it must be regulated. 
Many wise proverbs upon this relation have less influence than they 

should have, because they are only regarded in the form of 

Experiences. They may be represented as Laws of Existence. 
Laws for the development of the child, and its relation to the 

parents. 
Untimely endeavour to quit school. 
Reciprocity between the father and the son who is growing up, 

between the teacher and the pupil. 
The relation in wliich the young man stands to maternal love. 
The period of youth has its own peculiar signification in life, and 

its own laws of development. 
The reciprocity between young and old is beneficial to both classes. 
The youth must allow himself to be guided in his judgment of 

the activity of the elder portion of the world by the laws of 



COXTEXTS. 






development of maiilmid, and lie mast respect well-earned meri^ 
as far as this appears in the light of his age. 
The Author advocates peace, because the hostile passions have now 
so much power. 

2, A speech d.elivered on fhe reception of Young Students as Academical 
Citizens . . . ' p. 239 

The University may be regarded as an organized body just as much 

as the state. 
A glance at the feelings which must prevail in the assembly, both 

among the teachers as well as among the old and new academical 

citizens. 
The free scientific life is nov/ unfolded to the nev*" academical 

citizen. 
Delight in Science is the true sign of the genuine student. 
Encoui^agement to a true scientific life. 

AXCIE2^T AXD MODEEN TiMES .... pp. 244 256 

1. Is the World degenerated ? , . . . » p. 244 

For many centuries complaints were brought forward at each period, 
that it was worse than the preceding; if this had been well 
grounded, the world would now be very miserable. 

2. The Temperature of the Atmosphere has not altered , p. 244 

The oldest descriptions of the condition of Greenland, 600 years 
ago, represents it just as it is now. 

The Bible shows that vegetation in Judsea was the same in the 
most ancient times as it is at present ; therefore that the mode- 
rate temperature has remained the same. 

The olive-tree 1800 years ago had the same northern limit in 
France as it has now. 

Eeferences to Schouw's investigations. 

3. Jllen tvere neither greater nor stronger in ancient times . p. 246 

This is proved by the bones and skeletons of men who lived thou- • 

sands of years ago. 
The arguments that are brought forwai'd to prove tliat men were 

once stronger, rest upon misunderstandings. 

4. The duration of Life is not diminished. We noio enjoy better 
Health p. 248 

The number of men who reach a great age is greater now than it 
was formerly, because we are more particular about cleanliness 
and health, and Hve more moderately. 



C X TEXTS. XXXVll 

5. 3Ianl'indj in a moral point of vleii\ has not receded, hut has 

advanced p. 250 

We must derive this information from the cotemporary historians of 

former centiu'ies, and not trust to the cue -sided rex)resentation» 

of more modern times. 
Valour was certainly more practised in lawless times, but the present 

day has equally strong examples to hring forward. 
Om- opinions concerning the honour which existed in ancient days 

are quite groundless. 
Enlightenment has assisted Cliristianity to improTe men, to abohsh 

Superstition, to extinguish Ambition, Arrogance, and Cruelt}^, 

and to awaken the spirit of Love. 
Examples taken from the modern liistory of our country. 
We should neither despise Ancient Times, nor regard our own as 

perfect. ''* 

!5^ATrEAL SCIEXCE IX ITS BeLATIOX TO DIFFEEEXT PEEIODS OF 
THE WOELD, AXD TO THE PHILOSOPHY PEETALEXT THEX. 

pp. 257—288 

Cheistiaxity AXD Mextal Cultitatiox mtjtitally stjppoet each 
OTHER pp. 289—299 

Although the numbers of years which give rise to our Jubilees are 
arbitrary, it is still an excellent thing that such festivals should 
be solemnized. 

At the Jubilee solenmized by the University, in commemoration of 
the thousandth anniversary of Christianity in our country, it is 
suitable to consider how Christianity and Science support each 
other. 

That the Sciences began to decline at the same period as the exten- 
sion of Christianity, can in no way be ascribed to the infhience 
of the latter, but to the corruption of morals, which gave the 
preponderance to the barbarous above the civilized national 
elements of those days ; whereas there exists a power in Christi- 
anity to civihze barbarous nations. 

This power depended as much upon the Divine Government of the 
World, which v/as revealed in the distribution of Christianity. 
It was also aroused by inquiry; the teachers of religion became the 
promoters of Science, and the monasteries then* principal refuge. 

Cln^istianity gave occasion to a general study of languages, which 
was accompanied by a great civilizing effect. 

There has certainly often been a contest, and frequently a very 
strong one, between the friends of Christianity and of Enlighten- 
ment; but even where tlie will was not good, it nevertheless 
afterwards served both Religion and Truth, 



I 



XXXVIU CONTENTS. 



Christianity would establish a kingdom of God npon earth, wliich 
in consequence of its nature is also a kingdom of Reason. 
While Science strives after the same aim, and contributes much 
to the uprooting of the passions, and the developm.ent of Reason, 
it supports Christianity. 

Obseevations on the Histoey of Chemistry . pp. 300 — 324 
The various changes in Chemistry p. 300 

Doubts caused by the changes in Science. 

Immeasurable difference between the Alchemistic views and our 
own. 

The Phlogistic period. 

The Antiplilogistic period. ^ 



The commencement of the Electro-chemical. 



'Everything in Science -prevailing throughout a certain periods, contains 
actual Scientific Truth, though frequently much obscured . p. 307 

A preliminary survey of the subject. 

The truths and anticipations of truths in Alchemy. 

Comprehensive Truths contained in the Phlogistic System. 

Nature of the Antiphlogistic System. 

Pundamental features of the Electro-chemical Theory. 

Retrospect of that which harmonizes in all these theories. 

That there is a true course of development in the theories which have 
followed one another, and ivhich have been successively solved, p. 313 

The new Theory embraces far more than the former, and has a far 

greater inner connection. 
Science develops itself with increased rapidity, and arrives at a 

greater intellectual apprehension. 

The Development of Science obeys certain Laivs . , p. 315 

The harmony in the law of development belongs to the nature of 
the thing, but is here represented by examples. 

It belonged to the nature of the thing that metals constituted the 
first object for a combination of chemical phenomena. 

Experiments on the metals must lead to the knowledge of other 
substances, and make Chemistry a Science of separations and re- 
combinations. 

At a much later period, a more scientific treatment of the gases 
was attained. 

The Antiphlogistic Chemistry first became possible by this knovdedge, 
but was also made necessary. 

Those effects which are imperceptible by their weight, become 



j 



CONTENTS. XXXIX 

objects of scientific application in chemistry by pre\dou3 prepa- 
ration, which is obtained through a one-sided knowledge of 
matter. 
The natm-ai com-se of development of the doctrine of Electricity, 
Accidental discoveries, so far as they do not belong to the course of 
development of Science, exercise no essential effect upon it, 

A closer view of the Laio of Oscillation in the development of Science, 
and its henefcial influence . . . . . . p. 320 

There is a changing discovery and extension of the limits in the 

development of Science in certain periods of time, and distinct 

traces of correction and limitation in others. 
This Law is a universal Law of Life, and promotes the Life of 

Science. 
It is very beneficial to the students to make themselves well 

acquainted with the revolutions in Science. 
Comparison of the development of Science with the development of 

the Eai-th. 
This agreement bet^'een Nature and Spirit is not accidental, but 

founded in the nature of the thing, and points to a higher physics, 

in wliich the harmony of the Whole must be represented. 

Two Dialogues os the FiTNTOAMEKTAii Ped^ciples of Beauty, 
jlsd oy THE Physical Ettects of To^es . . pp. 325 — 371 

The sasie PuiyciPLES of Beauty exist in the objects sub- 
mitted TO the Eye a>T) to the Eak . , pp. 325 — 351 

Apparent sources of this pleasure. 

Music is a mere enjoyment of the senses. 

This pleasure does not depend upon accidental circumstances, but 

upon the nature of the receiving organs of sense ; it depends on 

the necessary nature of things, therefore on Eeason, with a 

consciousness of Enjoyment, Bodies are organized alike, but 

souls are dissimilar. 
The pleasure derived from Music depends upon the Imagination. 
The source of enjoyment cannot be discovered. 
A refutation of this mode of reasoning. 
Our pleasure in music depends upon Eeason and the senses at the 

same time, not however upon the external senses, but upon the 

internal, upon Perception. 
Consideration of the Circle in reference to this. 
Idea is the perceptive oneness of Thoughts, comprehended in the 

Eeason as Perception. This is comprehended in the Beautiful. 
The Beautiful pleases us as the impression of an Idea, without our 

being at the same time conscious of it. 

d 



xl CONTENTS. 

Application to other matliematical figures, the symmetrical and the 
unsymmetrical. 

The Geometrical figures are infinitely repeated in the whole of 
inorganic Nature. 

Inorganic beings constitute the elementary geometry. Organic the 
higher geometry of Nature. 

If deviation from a figure seems ugly to us, we must attribute some 
Beauty to the figure itself. 

Acoustic figures as apphed to music. 

No beautiful sound can be produced except by symmetrical vibra- 
tions of the sounding body. 

There is a hidden Reason in Tones. 

The ear, like the eye, prefers simple relations. 

The chord of the major third is therefore the most beautiful of all. 

The relations of tones are founded on mathematical principles, and 
may therefore be calculated. But our enjoyment does not depend 
upon that. 

The true Musician does not calculate them, since his work is 
essentially poetical. 

Thus we may calculate upon the sources of the enjoyment of art 
which does not consequently depend upon the imagination. The 
arguments are drawn from the nature of the thing. 

Music is certainly an enjoyment of the senses, but one of the noblest 
of them, and the organ of hearing is one of the most delicate and ' 
most skilfully constructed. Inferior perceptions of the senses 
cannot be reproduced by the inner sense, as the higher can. 

Besults of the whole investigation. 

The Physical Effects op Toites . . . pp. 352 — 371 

An inquiry as to the cause why music creates a desire to dance, and 

at the same time regulates the movements of the dance. 
The effects of Tones, or rather the vibrations of Tones, upon 

inanimate things. 
A string when it is sounding causes another to vibrate which is 

tuned alike. The air being set into vibrations is the cause of this 

phenomenon. 
But the strings which are tuned alike are also sympathetic. This 

is explained by the curves of the string which is struck. 
A string which has been struck does not merely affect others which 

are tuned alike, but also those which are in harmony. 
. Comparison of human sympathy with that between strings : strings 

that are tuned alike support each other, strings that are out of 

tune hinder and disturb each other. 
New questions : Are the nerves set in motion by the vibrations in 



CONTENTS. xli 

the same manner as the strmgs ? There is only a distant simi- 
larity between them. The nerves of the ear receive impressions ; 
each pressm-e is connected with a development of heat, and the 
return to the former condition with cold, though this is imper- 
ceptible to us. 

The vibrations on the nerves which are produced by tones commence 
from the nerves of hearing, and thence proceed to the brain and 
to all the nerves. Comparison with other vibrations* 

The variety of vibrations do not confuse one another. Examples. 
Time-music and Tone-music. The first regulates arbitrary move- 
ments, the last the soul, but also inversely. A wuder sphere of 
action for music. Condemnation of the present mode of musical 
instruction, and proposal for its improvement. 

Necessity for a deeper investigation into the BeautifuL 

Two Chaptees on the Nattjbal Philosophy of the Beautieul. 

pp. 372—413 

1. The investigation does not begin with a determination of the notion 

of Beauty, but with an inquiry into the Laws for the production 
of the Beautiful, by the most simple objects, mathematical figures. 

The straight line, the circle, the right angle, are pleasing to the eye, 
and indeed have an inward sensational comprehension, a mental 
perception, through a union of the various. 

The Beautiful is the Idea expressed in things so far as it is recon- 
ciled to perception. 

Symmetry alone satisfies the sense of Beauty. 

Comparison of forms which are produced by nature and by thought, 
with especial reference to the mutual crossings of the circles of 
waves, the acoustic figures, and the laws of the Relations of 
Tones. 

The relative condition of strings as sympathy. 

The effects of tones do not merely belong to Nature. 

The Laws of Nature in the Material World are Laws of Reason. 

2. Soimd and Light are produced by vibrations, the first in the air, the 

latter in aether, whence the whole Material World is penetrated by 
imperceptible movements: Heat is likewise an inward vibratory 
movement, which is connected with the chemical, electrical, and 
magnetic condition of bodies. 

The importance of Light for the outward and inward condition of 
mankind. 

We are unconsdons of Light, without the opposite impression of 
darkness. 

In Symmetry there are the opposites of forms, in Light those of 
effects; in the former the sum of Thought (the Ideal), in the latter 
the sum of Reality (the Real), is most prominent, 
d2 



Xlii CONTENTS. 

Belation of surfaces to Light. Two modes of reflecting Light, 

mirror-reflection and the dispersing or dissolving reflection. It 

is only the last that gives as cognizance of the reflecting parts. 
Unequally rapid ^ther -vibrations yield different perceptions of 

colom*. The distance of the waves is called the breadth of the 

waves. 
The ^ther-vibrations for the perception of red, have the greatest 

breadth of wave; then follow yeUow, green, blue, violet. The 

latter has the smallest breadth of wave. The reflection of a very 

small number of rays, forms black, the opposite, white pigments. 

The efiect of smaller and greater coloured surfaces. 
Colours, with regard to their appHcation to dress, to houses, and 

their signification* 
The impression of colours in consequence of their indirect relations, 

especially from the ordinary notions of society. 
The symbohcal signification of colours. 
Certain colours by their union yield white light. 
Complemental colours, or harmonious colom'S. 
Apphcation of the Philosophy of Beauty to the vegetable kingdom. 
The influence of a shining surface in the relations of Beauty. 
The impression of colours on the nerves of the eye. The combined 

forces of the world express themselves in the sensation of sight, 

although they may be concealed. 
The nature of the eye brings along with it the development of 

harmonious colours. 
On the Rainbow and Literference, with examples of the connection 

that exists between forms and colours. 
Conditions of polarization. 
On Colour-Music. 



On the Unbeautiful in Natuee, in its eelation to the Hae- 
MONT OE Beauty in the Whole ... pp. 414 — 424 

Reference to the Dialogue on Tones. 

On our inner sense, and its power of forming an image of things of 

which we have never received a direct impression from the senses: 

example, taken from maps. 
The inner sense in its power of comprehension and production is 

called the Imagination. 
The Imagination has three especial stages of development. — 1. The 

real natural sense. 2. The cultivated natural sense. 3. Sight 

through knowledge. 
Single parts of a whole do not sometimes appear beautiful : e.g., a 
, tree, stripped of its leaves, standing alone. 

Many things only appear beautiful when seen in their proper 



CONTENTS. xliii 

natural position : e.g.^ the swan, whicli we are accustomed to see 

in its natural position. 
The case is totally reversed 's\ith regard to the ape, which we seldom 

see in its natural position. 
Tlie Bat is ugly in another respect, because it appears unnatural to 

the imagination as a creature between the mammal and the bird. 

Something similar occurs in the case of monsters. 
The poetic spirit has an influence on our comprehension of Beauty: 

e.g., in the lion and the serpent. 
Eemarks on fictitious forms : e.g., the wings of angels depicted in 

art. 
Corruption. Individual external signs of death may be employed by 

the Artist, and the Poet may use still greater freedom. 
AU that is apparently unbeautifiil or ugly in a spiritual sphere of 

apprehension wiU form a part in the beauty of the Whole. 
Ugliness, as in a certain sense Evil, becomes a finite condition : that 

which is essentially beautiftd is eternal. 

Cheistiakity and Asteonomt .... pp. 425 — 446 

Preliminary Remarks. 

Absurdity of the opinion that the Copernican system rests on a 

concertation of Astronomers. 
Oiu* belief that the Heavens and all the Stars were created for the 

Earth alone, has been shaken by discoveries which have been 

made since the time of Tycho Brahe, as according to his system 

we are compelled to believe that the Heavens revolve round the 

Earth. 
A Refutation of the objection that the Copernican System, according 

to which the Earth goes round the Sun, is in opposition to a 

manifest testimony of our senses. 
Our senses are deceived. The Understanding must come to our aid. 

By our understanding, we calculate the eclipses of the Moon and 

Sun, we invent machines, make laws for the State, &c. 
Mode of judging the axiom, that because our understanding may 

err, we must therefore hold fast to the Word of God. 
The Astronomers do this also; they read the book of laws for the 

movements of the world which God has -wTitten in the heavens, 

first by aid of their senses, afterwards by the experience of 

thousands of years, and finally by calculations, and a comparison 

between the same and phenomena. 
Mathematical predictions are quite distinct from prophecies. 
There are two kinds of precalculations; one founded on observations, 

the other on an insight into the laws of ISTature, which we owe to 

Newton. 



Ixiv CONTENTS. 

Kewton developed tiie tlioiiglit, ttiat the moyements of the planets 
occur according to the same laws as the movements here on earth. 

Eefore the time of Newton, the law of Inertia was already known. 

That Bodies have forces, bnt they are wanting in will to employ 
these forces. 

The thought that Matter is devoid of will was known to Galileo, 
and it was through Descartes that it received universal acknow- 
ledgment. 

Gravity is a result of reciprocal force of attraction in all material 
things throughout the world. 

Explanation of this law, with reference to a diminution in its effect, 
in proportion to the distance of two objects from one another. 

This determination in the effect, which arises from the attraction of 
all parts in a sphere, is so constituted as if all these parts were in 
the centre. This facilitated the calculation of distances. 

Our observations on the Moon's path confirm these calculations. 

The paths of all the planets and their moons may be calculated by 
this universal attraction. 

T^ewton's theory also proves that the figure of the earth entirely 
depends on the same universal laws of Nature, as on the laws of 
Motion, belonging to it, and to the other planets. 

The Newtonian theory seems to be opposed to the Bible, but many 
passages of the Bible cannot be taken literally. When taken as 
a whole, the Bible rather teaches the movement than the fixed 
position of the earth. 

Eefiitation of the objection; the falsity of the opinion that all 
Christian consciousness is opposed to the doctrine of Astronomers, 
as well as the view that Natural Science leads away from God, 
and that it would make us believe the world to be governed by 
blind laws in Nature. 

Naturalists, as well as others, believe that the whole world originates 
from God, that the laws of Nature are regulations which God has 
himself given, and has not received from another. 

The more correct view, is that all existence ie the unceasing work of 
God. That natural laws are the continual operation of Divine 
Eeason must be submitted to our consideration. 

We may certainly be good Christians, with pure child-like faith, 
without either understanding or admitting any Astronomical 
system whatever, but we must not thoughtlessly reject scientific 
opinions, or even view them with indifference. 

Every piece of knowledge which is properly understood serves 
Christianity. Science, as well as religion, endeavours to raise us 
above the impressions of our senses. The pleasure we receive 
from every spiritual enjoyment is an approach to God. Astro- 
nomy both humbles and elevates us. 



CONTENTS. xlv 

Upon the Spirit aio) Study of Uniyeesal Natueal Philosophy. 

pp. 447 — 465 

Spirit, Signification, and the JEnd of Natural Science . p. 447 

The universal aim of Natural Science. 

The infinite magnitude and variety of Nature, both in extent of 
Space and Time, in Divisibility, in Variety. 

Such an infinite Science is only rendered possible by everything 
happening according to universal Laws. 

Natural Laws and the universal fundamental forces of Nature, con- 
stitute that which is constant in everything ; and the peculiarity 
of each thing is determined by the laws. 

Li each thing, the Laws by which it is produced constitute a totality; 
each individual thing is part of a greater totality, which again is 
part of a still higher totality; so that the whole universe must be 
recognized as the true infinite oneness of all Natural Laws, 
viewed in their activity. 

Natural Laws are Laws of Keason, which may also be named 
Natural Thoughts. All Thoughts in Nature are only expressions 
of an infinite living Eeason. 

The human mind recognizes itself again in Nature, and also recog- 
nizes itself as the image of the Eternal Creating Keason. 

Science is not to be sought on account of its utility, but on account 
of its peculiar excellence; yet the consideration of its utility 
belongs to the completion of the Insight. 

Natural Science strengthens the Mind for the action which is 
expressed in Life, and destroys Superstition. It teaches us to 
govern Nature. 

Methods of Universal "Natv/ral Philosophy ... p. 454 

Universal Precepts. 

Daily Experience, Observation, Experiments. 

Closer Eepresentation. Experimental Art. 

The meaning of Experiment. Experimental Idea. 

The relation of Mathematics to Natural Philosophy. 

Hypothesis is an Experimental Idea. Use and proof of Hypothesis. 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 



A CONVERSATION. 

Alpeed. Sophia. Felix. Heiiman:n'. 

Sophia. Here Tve are all assembled again this evening, 
which is so fine that it seems to invite us to pursue our con- 
versation of last night. 

Her:mann. We all participate in yom* wish. You said 
yesterday, dear Alfi-ed, thiit you were both a Spiritualist and 
a Materialist. As I know that you did not assert this in a 
spirit of mere dogmatism, or from an idle wish to be peculiar, 
I should like to hear you explain yourself. 

Alfked. We must touch upon one of the great questions 
of philosophy ; but I will, to the best of my power, endea- 
vour to prove the justice of my conceptions. 

Sophia. I may appear presumptuous, but I cannot refrain 
from saying how much I wish to comprehend these things, 
and therefore I beg, Alfred, that you will, if possible, so 
express yourself that the unlearned, such as I am, may be 
able to understand you. 

Alpeed. I will endeavour to do so. But lest I should 
omit anything which, were I speaking to my friend Hermann 
alone, I shoidd conclude he already knew, I will address 
myself to you, Sophia, and beg him to object whenever we 
assume anything as settled which he considers erroneous. 

Hekmann. I willingly comply. 

Sophia. My earnest wish will then be fulfilled. 

Alp RED. I must therefore begin with a question, which 
you wiU perhaps think somewhat irrelevant to the subject. 
How do we gain a knowledge of external things ? 

B 



2 THE SPIHITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

Sophia. Through the senses, I imagine. 

Alehed. And do the senses enable us to comprehend an 
entire object at once ? 

Sophia. I have not considered that. 

Alered. When I lay my hand on this book, do I feel the 
whole book, or only an effect of the book, namely, a resist- 
ance against the motion by which my hand would force itself 
into the space occupied by the book ? 

Sophia. The latter is certainly the t-rue state of the case ; 
but do I not see the whole book ? 

Alfred. Surely not the whole at once ? 

Sophia. Certainly not ; some parts are concealed by other 
parts. 

Alered. We are very often deceived by our eyesight : 
under particular circumstances the reflection in a looking- 
glass, or a faithful likeness, may deceive the eye into the belief 
that it sees a material object, 

Sophia. That is true. 

Alered. We therefore recognize the existence of a material 
object, not firom a single impression made upon the senses, 
but from our mental capacity having combined many sensible 
impressions together. 

Sophia. Yet a single look often convinces me of the reality 
of a thing. 

Alered. I am far from denying that; and would even 
allow that it is generally the case. But when a single look 
convinces you that it is a book which you see, innumerable 
previous impressions, in conformity with the contrivance of 
our being, are renewed within you ; so that the object appears 
entire, though a very small portion of it may have been at 
that time impressed on your senses. 

Sophia. I might therefore be deceived if it were not siu*- 
rounded by all which usually accompanies it. Indeed, I now 
remember much that might have satisfied me of this before. 
I once saw those delusive images which are called Fata 
Morgana, or reflections in the air, and for a long time felt 
convinced that what I saw before me were real houses, trees, 
and water. I remember also a remarkable experiment made 
with a concave mirror, by means of which a flower appeared 
suspended in such a manner over a flower-pot, as to lead one 
to mistake the image for the reality. 

Alered. Thus we do not immediately perceive objects, such 



i 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 3 

as a tree, a house, or a book ; that which we actually grasp 
is the impression produced upon us. But this impression is 
certainly an eflPect which could not be produced without an 
active power in the things themselves. We have therefore 
this only to recognize. 

S. I do not see how I can deny this ; and yet when I 
think of a lump of metal, a stone, or a log of wood, so far 
from imagining anything active, it appears to me as if every- 
thing about them were dead ; they are so immovable and so 
entirely opposed to all activity, that the nature of matter 
seems to consist much more in passive existence than in 
constant action. 

A. But that view of the subject will not stand the test of 
experience. If you lay one stone upon another, does not the 
lower one support that which rests upon it ? 

S. Of course; but does this proceed from an active 
power ? 

A. How can it be otherwise ? "VATien anything is effected, 
there must be some effecting power at work. In the case 
above mentioned, the effect produced is this, that the upper 
stone is interrupted in its constant endeavour to fall. 

S. I have nothing to say in reply ; and yet it appears to 
me that there must be a passive resistance. 

A. You are quite right to mention your doubts. There 
is no such thing as passive resistance, though we have more 
frequently been deceived into that idea than we could con- 
ceive it possible. But do not be deterred by a philosophical 
dogma; the explanation of the phenomenon must proceed 
from a consideration of the thing itself. Let us therefore 
re-examine our case. Do you not believe that the upper 
stone presses upon the one beneath ? 

S. Certainly. 

A. And that the one beneath is pressed upon ? 

S. Of course. 

A. But is not that which is pressed upon, also pressed 
together ? 

S. Yes, very often ; but does it always happen ? It does 
not appear to me that a stone is pressed together when any- 
thing is laid upon it. 

A. A stone is only slightly compressed ; but it has been 
ascertained by means of very delicate measurements, that all 
bodies are capable of being compressed. 

B 2 



4 THE SPIHITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

S. But an enormous weight would be required to compress 
a stone. 

A. To press it together, so as to make it only a thou- 
sandth part smaller, would require an immense force ; but 
should the pressure be less, the diminution would be in the 
same proportion lessened, though, at the same time, ever so 
slight a pressure corresponds with a certain compression. 

S. Well, if this is proved by experiment, I am far from 
wishing to contradict it, as it appears to me very probable. 

A. As soon as the pressure ceases to act upon the stone, 
it will return to its original size. 

S. Is this always the case ? 

A. Yes, if the pressm-e be not so great as to crush it 
internally. 

S. I therefore understand that there is a constant counter- 
pressm-e from the body which is pressed upon, against that 
which is pressing, and that it consequently opposes an effectual 
resistance to the body which endeavours to force itself into 
its space. 

A. Bodies, therefore, possess an inward power of acting' 
by means of which they occupy space. Thus, when you 
feel the presence of this table with your hand, you are really 
made aware of it by the active power it possesses of filling 
np space ; and every other impression which you receive from 
material things is also only a notification of an inherent 
power of acting which they possess. You would see nothing, 
if objects did not possess the power either to evolve light, or 
to reflect back some of that which fcills upon them, that your 
eye may be able to catch part of it. But I need not bring 
forvv'ard any more examples ; I do not doubt that you per- 
ceive with me that every impression implies an active power. 

S. I ought not to have been so long in comprehending 
this, as it is self-evident. 

A. What we most directly know of bodies, accordingly, 
is, that they are spaces filled by active powers. 

S. Then matter is more nearly related to spirit than we 
generally imagine. But now that one difficulty is removed, 
I here encounter another. I see that matter is resolved into 
mist and vapour, which I cannot reconcile with the evidence 
.of my senses. 

A. You appear to imagine it to be an extravagant idea 
thus to resolve material bodies into mere phantoms of clouds 



I 



THE SPIRITrAL IN THE MATERIAL. 5 

and vapour. But what will you say when I assure you that 
the possibility of this has been proved by innumerable scien- 
tific investigations on matter. 

S. How so? 

A. It has been effected by chemistry. 

S. Alas I I understand nothing of this branch of science. 

A. That will not prevent me from giving you some instances 
derived from it. Ice, as you will allow, is a solid body, but 
if it is penetrated by a certain amount of heat, it becomes 
water, and this same water, submitted to a still greater amount 
of heat, becomes invisible steam. Now the actual amount of 
matter which is determined by its weight, remains throughout 
these different conditions unchanged and the same. This, 
however, holds good not only in regard to water, but to all 
other bodies. I need not tell you that hard iron becomes 
fluid when exposed to great heat ; but perhaps you may not 
have heard that at a certain degree of heat iron may also be 
converted into vapour. I cite this example, because it so 
strikingly contradicts the common ideas which are entertained 
concerning matter. There is one universal law, as has been 
already said, namely, that all bodies may exist, either as solid, 
liquid, or aeriform ; and I may casually remark, that vapour 
and air do not essentially differ. But I do not stop here. 
The most simple bodies seem to have the strongest tendency - 
towards an aeriform or gaseous condition. Water, which was 
so long considered to be an element, can be separated by the 
aid of chemistr}' into two component parts, each of which is 
in itself a peculiar kind of gas, and which, reunited, forms 
water, without the change having any influence on the 
quantity of the whole. That I may not name objects beyond 
the sphere of common life, I shall only mention that sugar, 
wood, horn, and many other solid bodies in the animal and 
vegetable kingdoms, may also be decomposed into gaseous 
parts ; indeed, it is very probable that one day it will appear 
that all bodies are composed of gaseous elements ; that is to 
say, of matter which in some bodies is able to maintain its 
gaseous condition at a lower degree of heat than in other bodies. 

S. I am willing to believe this ; but still it has not 
cleared up my difficulty, although it may appear to have 
done so. 

^ A. I did not really expect that it would. You have hardly - 
discovered the right expression for your doubt. 



6 THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

S. Why did you not warn me of this ? 

A. Because I supposed that the difficulty which I have 
just noticed formed the chief part of your doubt, though you 
had not yourself taken it into account. 

S. I believe you are right; but in what else do my doubts 
consist ? 

A. You miss, in my representation of things, the consis- 
tency to which you are accustomed in the material world. 
To what I have besides said you will reply: it is not only 
density and solidity which I miss w^hen I imagine material 
objects are merely occupants of space, but I cannot also at 
the same time conceive the possibility of the existence of such 
various defined and enduring forms as I everywhere behold 
in the material world. 

S. I confess that this does appear to me a great difficulty. 

A. Then I would beg you to join with me in a still closer 
observation on that which is the perishable part of the material 
world, that we may more surely seek the Imperishable where 
it is to be found. The perpetual mutability of the human and 
of all animal bodies need hardly be mentioned. Daily expe- 
rience proves to us they are born, grow, decline, and perish, and 
that one generation ever replaces another. This phenomenon 
is no less manifest in the vegetable kingdom. Flowers and 
grass, especially those plants which have but a year's exis- 
tence, have at all times served as examples of mortality. 
Even mighty trees, which have endured for centuries, are 
subject to the same mortality, although longer deferred. 
Even our globe, which, according to the vulgar notion, bears 
all things on its firm basis, is subject to change : it revolves, 
as you know, daily on its axis, and annually completes its 
course round the sun. But the sun itself describes an orbit 
as yet undetermined by us, and is now advancing in a vast 
journey, in which the earth and all her sister planets must 
necessarily accompany him; but the centre around which the 
sun describes its apparently immeasurable course, may also, 
with the greatest certainty, be regarded as moving ; in short, 
all the heavenly bodies are incessantly in motion, and none 
are at rest. 

S. Although I have never so pictured these things to my- 
self, they are nevertheless not strange to me ; but does it, there- 
fore, follow, that inanimate nature is just as changeable as 
the rest ? Surely there exists something which is invariable. 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 7 

A. Very true ! The Inyariable does exist, but we must 
not seek it here. The earth has not always been as it is 
now ; its internal structure testifies that for thousands of 
years it has been developing fi'oni one condition to another, 
and the attentive inquirer must be aware that it continues 
constantly to develop itself, and that now, as formerly, it is 
passing from one state to another. "We may easily conceive 
that the same is taking place with all the other heavenly 
bodies, which are therefore not only in constant motion, but, 
at the same time, are in an unceasing state of developement. 
Inaction or repose exists not in the universe. 

S. Well, I shall see what you say when you come to 
speak of inanimate objects; for our earth and the other heavenly 
bodies appear to bear a strong resemblance to animate nature, 
however much they may differ from them in many respects. 

A. But we must take into consideration, that these inani- 
mate objects upon the earth are only portions of the earth 
itself, and, consequently, develop themselves, and, moreover, 
will continue to be developed with it. The sea-shore, spread 
out so beautifully before us, has not been always there ; on 
the contrary, there was a time when it had not risen above 
the surface of the water. Even the hardest rock has had its 
period of formation, since which it has suffered continual 
changes by the influence of the air, water, heat, and cold. 
The plants which grow on the surface of the rock help to 
consume it; and who can tell how many other forces may 
co-operate in the work! Subterranean forces are constantly 
striving to raise or sink the rock, which, when apparently 
in a condition of repose themselves, are by no means in- 
active. When they really effect any elevations or depres- 
sions, it takes place so slowly, that it would escape 
observation, if one centmy did not assist another. Amidst 
all these formations and transformations of the earth, the 
materials, out of which it is compounded, are also formed and 
transformed, for these materials are not distinct from the 
earth, but belong to it as much as bones, fiesh, and blood, 
belong to the bodies of animals. 

S. But are there not substances which endure for whole 
centuries unchanged ? I have seen antiquities of glass, stone, 
and gold, which had lain an immense time underground. 

A. But during that time they have not been in a com- 
plete state of rest; they have undoubtedly been subject to 



8 THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

the uniTersal laws of matter: and I must previously remark 
that, whatever we may think of this apparent repose, it 
is only an oscillation between equally great antagonistic 
powers. 

S. How is that ? 

A. Urged by gravity to fall, bodies are only prevented 
by an antagonistic force in those which oppose thera, as we 
have already seen. All bodies lying upon them will endea- 
vour to press them down, and they in their turn will press 
still stronger downwards, but will meet with a still greater 
reaction from below. By means of their own power of ex- 
tension they will resist all compressing forces. Rest, in a 
body, is not an inactive state of existence. In the state 
which we call rest, each body receives, in addition, its propor- 
tionate share (however small,) of the impression of those forces 
which set the earth in motion, and retain it in its orbit. In 
this way it participates, to a certain degree, in the union 
of those active powers which sustain the world in that 
motion, which is also the most perfect equilibrium. But this 
is not all. Each separate body, in whatever part of the 
universe it may exist, is affected by a number of surrounding 
forces, which tend to produce internal changes. An incessant 
alternation is maintained between it and the rest of the 
universe by means of heat, electricity, and magnetism. A 
constantly renewed giving and taking of influences is insepa- 
rable from material existence. But we should not limit our 
observations here. We do not know all mundane forces, but 
it is easy to perceive that many of those powers which act 
on matter, endeavour to disturb and arrest its present con- 
dition, wliilst others seek to preserve it. We know, in many 
cases, the conditions under which substances preserve or 
change their state; or, on the other hand, are decomposed 
into their constituent parts, or are obliged to form new 
combinations. Can we reasonably doubt that such condi- 
tions do exist even where w^e are unconscious of them ? 

S. Certainly not: we may rather assume, that all bodies 
are subject to the same conditions. 

A. Well ; there is, then, no body, or part of a body, 
whose existence can be called invariable. Wherever, in the 
material world, anything seems to be unchanged, whether 
it is in reference to its situation or its internal condition, 
this inaction is only apparent, as the hour-hands of a clock 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 9 

appear to be stationary, when we take a cursory glance at 
them. This is, however, but a feeble simile, when we speak 
of changes which are hardly perceptible in the course of 
many thousand years. Imagine a clock with a hand which 
took ten thousand years to pass over the space which the 
hour-hand does in one houi% and the simile will be more 
expressive. 

S. I confess I feel myself not only unable to contradict 
you, but nearly convinced of the justice of your argument: 
but now I think you must show us the Invariable, which,, as 
you yourself say, reveals itself in existence. 

A. You mentioned to-day in our walk, that you had 
twice visited the waterfall of Sarpen, in Norway; did you 
each time see the same water ? 

S. Certainly not. The water rushes down with furious 
impetuosity, and is constantly replaced by a fresh supply. 

A. And 3'et it was the same waterfall that you saw both 
times. 

S. I understand you. The material parts were not the 
invariable. But now assist me in naming what is the invai'i- 
able in it, as I cannot at this moment express it. 

A. In the first place we may say that the invariable con- 
sists in a number of effects, which always remain essentially 
the same. You here receive an impression of the fall of a 
gi-eat mass of water, which every time comes from the same 
enormous height, and always encounters the same obstacles. 
The dispersion of the drops, the foam, the sound occasioned 
by the fall as well as by the roaring and foaming of the water, 
which always arise from the same causes, ever remain the 
same. In the impression which all these things produce 
upon us we feel a variety, but at the same time a totality ; or 
in other words, we feel the variety of the single impressions 
as the effect of one great action of nature produced by the 
peculiar conditions of the locality. Perhaps the invariable 
in this phenomenon might be superficially termed the thought 
of nature inherent to it. 

S. You mean by that, the thought which we connect 
with it ? 

A. Let us be satisfied with that at present; I have not 
yet earned the right to assert more. 

S. Will you ever be able to obtain such a right? 

A. I shall endeavour to do so, with your approval. You 



10 THE SPIKITUAL IN THE MATEHIAL. 

have already acknowledged tliat nothing material can be 
called invariable. 

S. And I will not withdraw my assent. 

A. Whereas the laws of nature are constant. 

S. That is everywhere acknowledged; but how does that 
agree with what I have heard and read, that the earth, before 
it was in its present condition, produced a different race of 
animals and plants? 

A. If we follow the same principles under different cir- 
cumstances, must not the actions themselves differ, and will 
they not do so in a still higher degree, the more completely 
the principles are developed and understood ? 

S. This must indeed be true, for when following a parti- 
cular principle of education, we feel ourselves obliged to 
treat an older child differently from a younger one, a sick 
child differently from a healthy one, the active differently 
from the idle. I understand you now. You mean that the 
animal and vegetable creations of a former world were brought 
forth according to the same laws of nature, but not under the 
same circumstances. 

A. Such is the case. The earth which appears neither 
to have become warmer nor colder since man was created, 
presents indisputable proofs, from the remains of still older 
inhabitants, that in an earlier age of developement it was 
warmer, had a more humid atmosphere, and was covered to a 
greater extent with sea; and notwithstanding all these dis- 
crepancies, the animal and vegetable kingdoms of that period 
bear so strong a resemblance to our own, that they appear 
but different emanations from the same great Thought. 

S. But are not the different conditions which then existed, 
a proof that nature was formerly governed by other laws ? 

A. If it is one of the principles of nature that every- 
thing developes itself in the course of time, different con- 
ditions must necessarily succeed one another, or I would 
rather say, proceed out of one another; otherwise the con- 
nection would be wanting. We will select one great example. 
As our earth has gradually developed itself, so also have all 
the other planets. But is it probable that they were all 
formed at the same time ? And if they were, (which we must 
however deny,) can we beheve that those planets which are 
very distant from the sun, and which require many years to 
complete their orbits, would be developed in the same manner. 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATEEIAL. 11 

and in the same space of time, as those which approach the 
smi» or would there not rather arise great differences from 
the similarity of the laws acting iinder such dissimilar 
conditions ? 

S. I acknowledge the inyalidity of my objection. But how 
do you proceed ? 

A. The next proposition which I shall appeal to, is to this 
purport, — the laws of nature are founded on Reason. 

S. Do you found this upon the divine wisdom which is 
rerealed in nature ? 

A. I would, if I could venture to build upon my own con- 
victions, but I have too great a dread of self-deception, by 
which so many have been already deceived. 

S. But how will you then prove yom- proposition ? 

A. By a great fact in the history of science. 

H. By a fact ! That is indeed wonderful. 

A. Yes, by a fact, or rather a collection of facts, which 
reveals the connection that subsists between nature and our 
minds. 

H. Let us hear it. 

A. Naturalists have frequently deduced natural laws from 
a process of reasoning, and afterwards discovered them really 
existing in nature. 

H. I thought that we could hardly ever arrive at natm-al 
laws by a purely speculative path, since they must be con- 
firmed by experience. 

A. We are at least not yet prepared to deduce the natural 
laws from the highest source of all knowledge. But that is 
not now the question. I am here considering the manner in 
which scientific men usually proceed. They direct their 
attention to such objects as are most famiKar to us, and which 
are at the same time beacon-lights in the entire range of our 
knowledge ; and they search for laws to account for them. 
Thus the remarkable laws of uniformly-increasing velocity 
have been deduced from the nature of motion. From the 
nature of space, the law has been deduced that an effect 
proceeding from one point becomes weaker in proportion as 
the square of the distance increases. These two conclusions, 
and the idea that all bodies at equal distances equally attract 
one another, are almost the only sources from which the 
doctrine of the planetary laws of motion — this great mechanism 
of the heavens— has been derived. 



12 THE SPIEITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

H. But were they not essentially supported by experience ? 

A. Certainly ! We should hardly have discovered all that 
is at present known of the motion of the heavenly bodies, 
if we had not been led to it by experience ; but afterwards, 
in the mechanism of the heavens, one truth was elicited 
from another, without deriving more from experience than 
some individual points of connection. This deduction of 
truth arose from indisputable conclusions ; and experience 
has confirmed many peculiar laws of nature, which have been 
thus discovered. 

H. But are there such examples in other sciences besides 
astronomy ? 

A, Many, although none on so grand a scale. The pro- 
perties of light are so connected that they may generally be 
deduced from one another; and although we start from 
separate points of experience, any one acquainted with science 
is aware that most facts are united by the undoubted con- 
elusions of Reason, so that we can almost everywhere calculate 
from the known to the unknown, and thence draw conclusions, 
and afterwards find our discoveries again confirmed by expe- 
rience. We do not indeed always obtain this satisfaction; 
but that which we encounter of an unsatisfactory nature will 
disappear with a fm^ther developement of knowledge, as has 
happened to many defects which have been removed in the 
course of the last two centuries. 

H. Such examples surely are only met with in mathematical 
sciences. 

A. And even if it were so, it would be sufficient for my 
purpose, for mathematics and its application to nature is cer- 
tainly an act of Beason. Moreover mathematics must be an 
element of all perfect knowledge, since we cannot possibly 
comprehend anything essentially without knowing its mag- 
nitudes and proportions. Even the simplest knowledge con- 
tains a natural mathematics dwelling in every reasoning 
mind; but the predictions which we have mentioned here 
are by no means limited to the science of mathematics. I 
need only remind you of the celebrated discoveries of the 
lightning conductor, the air balloon, the voltaic battery, and 
the metallic bases of the earths. It is well known that they 
were not brought to light by chance, for although the last 
was casually discovered, it had been long prophesied by 
Lavoisier. I mav also add, that each of these discoveries in 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 13 

itself has again often given a spur to anticiptio ns which 
have been afterwards justified by experience. We may here 
apply Schiller's words, and say, " What the Spirit promises 
Natui-e performs."^' 

H. But it frequently happens that nature does not corro- 
borate the conclusions at which man arrives. 

A. That is certainly the case, but we always discover where 
the mistake lies; indeed, I maintain we can never fail in so 
doing^f we are able to sm'vey the passage from error to truth. 

H. This applies to the speculative sciences, and indeed 
must necessarily do so. 

A. You will say that I have here spoken what is self- 
evident, a tautology which expresses nothing, but if so, you 
have only attended to a passing impression, as so often 
happens in the course of conversation; otherwise you would 
have easily perceived how much stress was laid upon the idea 
that our reason does not only test the work of our own reason, 
but that we here test the agreement of our reason with a 
work which we are certain our reason did not produce. 

H. Is this certain ? Is it not possible that what we con- 
sider as something totally separate from ourselves, is only the 
effect of an active power at work in om* own minds, of which 
we are unconscious ? 

A. So you are an Idealist ? 

H. At this moment I am one, in opposition to your dual- 
istic assertion. 

A. You, therefore, suppose, that I conceive our under- 
standing is such as to believe that the Internal and External 
which meet there, are two different things; you will pre- 
sently see how much jou mistake me. We are conscious, 
that in the arrangement of the exterior world, there is some- 
thing which is quite independent of our mode of comprehen- 
sion. The world began its path of creation before man existed, 
and many times does its com^se run counter to our j)recon- 
ceived ideas. You would hear no contradictions fi-om me, 
if your thought produced mine. 

H. Do we not often contradict ourselves in our dreamy 
imaginations ? 

A. True ; but if you wished to follow out this idea in 
earnest, you would convert our whole existence into a dream, 
and I, at least, would decline continuing this dream. 
* Was der Geist verspreclit leistet die Natur. 



14 THE SPIEITUAL IN THE MATEKIAL. 

H. Well, I myself did not wish to pursue this unnatural 
train of thought, but you cannot deny, that what we dis- 
cern in the laws of nature is our own Eeason. Am I not 
justified in the idea, that in the outer world there is some- 
thing that makes an impression upon us, but which m.ay be 
quite differently constituted from what we imagine it to be ; 
and that what we call natural laws, are only in reality the 
laws of our own mode of perception ? 

A. I must separate two points which are included in your 
question: the one is what in our sensational^ perceptions 
constitutes sensibility, the feeling which is roused in us by 
external objects ; the other is that which, by the united com- 
prehension of our senses and our reason, we learn to know 
of the reciprocal effect of one thing upon another. That 
sensation is not the same in all sentient beings, although 
influenced by similar exterior causes, we have already learnt 
by that which we have imparted to one another about these 
impressions, as well as by the comparison of our own impres- 
sions in different circumstances. An illness has power to 
alter the transparent part of the eye, so that everything is 
seen through a yellow medium, but, as the illness departs, 
the natural perception of colour returns again. There are 
some who cannot distinguish between red and blue, although, 
in other respects, they see correctly. How much greater must 
be the variety, if we imagine the inhabitants of another 
globe, whose organs of sense are probably constructed on an 
entirel3>^ different plan. 

H. You seem inclined to grant all that I require. 

A. By no means, if I have rightly understood you. The 
reciprocal impression of one thing upon another, reveals 
much that cannot depend upon our natural perceptions. 
Suppose, for instance, I put some grains of salt into one glass 
of water, and some grains of gold into another, the salt vanishes 
before ray eyes and unites with the water, but the grains of 
gold remain as they were at first. Is it possible, that a being 
with differently constructed senses, could see the opposite 
effect ? Could he see the grains of gold dissolve in the water, 
and the grains of salt remain unaltered ? A being endowed 
M'ith finer senses, might continue to distinguish, in the 

* We have adopted the term sensationalism from Mr. MorelPs History 
of the Speculative Philosophy of Europe, as a truer explanation of the 
German word Sinnlichkeit than the usual word Sensuality. — Tr. 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 15 

solution, between the particles of salt and water, when our 
eves, even though mechanically assisted, might not detect a 
single gi-ain: on the other hand, failing in the sense of 
colour, he might be unable to distinguish the coloured gold 
from the colourless salt ; but the law that water absorbs salt 
and leaves gold untouched, must remain the same to such 
a being as much as to ourselves. 

. F. I think that Hermann will allow this is an important 
example. 

A. Still it is not sufficient to explain the matter fully. 
Let us suppose that an inhabitant of the planet Jupiter were 
able to come to us, and saw two stones fall, one from the 
height of sixty feet, the other from fifteen feet, would he not 
see as clearly as we do, that the first takes twice as long to fall 
as the second? 

S. Are you not mistaken when you say, the stone which 
fell sixty feet only took twice as long to fall as that which fell 
fifteen feet ? I should have thought it would ha^e taken four 
times as long. 

A. What I said appears at first sight wrong, but it is not so 
in reality. The stone which continues to fall, after it has 
passed fifteen feet, has already received a considerable velo- 
city, which enables it to pass through the remainder of its 
way much quicker than it would have done, if it had begun 
to fall during the latter portion of the way. By strict calcu- 
lation it can be proved, that a body falls fom* times in two 
seconds, nine times in three seconds, sixteen times in four 
seconds, as far as it did in the first second. 

S. I must, therefore, multiply the seconds into them- 
selves, twice two, three times three, four times four, in order 
to find out the space which has been traversed .^ 

A. Exactly so. I selected this somewhat difficult ex- 
ample, in order to point out, that we frequently find the 
reasonable laws of nature have been followed, where, before 
we had thoroughly investigated the subject, we should have 
considered the occurrence a contradiction of reason. This 
alone ought to incline us to seek the cause without, and not 
within om- being ; but I perceive that our friend would oppose 
this assertion of mine, by observing that objects follow laws 
of our nature svhich are unkno\Mi to the very nature itself. 
At all events, I require him to conclude our metaphysical 
experiment by declaring whether he is not also of opinion. 



16 THE SPIEITTJAL IN THE MATESIAL. 

that our Tisitor from Jupiter must find one of the two periods 
twice as long as the other. 

H. This question w^ould fall to the ground, if time and 
space were not sensible forms to him, as they are to us. 

A. And still more so if his reason obeyed different laws 
from oui'S. 

H. No, there exists but one reason. It may be more or 
less impeded by sensationalism; but reason in one planet is 
essentially the same as in another. 

A. But surely our inhabitant of Jupiter cannot be a purely 
rational being, and at the same time definite. 

H. Certainly not. ' 

A. But if the relation which is founded on reasonable 
grounds between cause and effect, between a mental action 
and its repetition, between one thing and another, and 
between more and less, really exists, and rereals itself in a 
finite manner, there must be a form in which this comes to 
pass. I do not, therefore, see how we can escape the inference, 
that space and time are necessary forms of the Finite ; ne- 
cessary forms of sense, categories of the Finite, if we may 
call them by such terms. But even if we should attempt 
to conceive different forms of the Finite, there must be 
something in them which answers to the laws of reason, and 
hence would arise a close connection between the impres- 
sions which the same thing will produce on an inhabitant of 
Jupiter and an inhabitant of this earth. In the mean time, 
I believe that this semi-evasion, which is neither a com- 
plete retreat for myself nor my opponent, will be removed 
in the end. 

H. I should like to see this effected. 

A. If I premise that my experience is not merely the 
production of the mental activity of my own natm-e; in other 
words, not merely a dream, in which you are my vision as I 
am yours, but in which the external as well as the internal 
has its share in my experience, then everything that is alike 
in our experience must bear a corresponding similitude in 
external circumstances. 

H. But beyond that, Reality may be very different from 
what we imagine it to be. 

A. I require no more. Let us only cite a few examples, 
not as a proof, but in order that we may with greater facility 
reach a more comprehensive truth. I therefore observe, in 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 17 

the first place, that we find the same laws in all the planets. 
They each of them enjoy day and night by revolving on their 
axis, and have years through their revolution round the sun. 
Those planets which have moons are encircled by them in 
conformity with the same laws which regulate our earth and 
moon, and these laws are again the same as those obeyed by 
every object on the surface of our earth. The manner in 
which the planets are illuminated and reflect their borrowed 
light on us, is the same as we observe in terrestrial bodies 
Only consider that in the powerful light which we receive 
from all parts of the universe, we cannot perceive any essential 
effect which may not be referred to the very same laws to 
which our terrestrial light is subjected. 

H. Well, I do not think that you need proceed further ; 
neither I, nor any one else, can easily deny that everything 
(so far as our powers of comprehension reach) is subject to 
the same laws ; but consider that perhaps it is the nature of 
our faculties which creates these laws. 

A. But you must not forget that a resemblance must exist 
between objects which operate alike upon similarly constituted 
beings. 

H. And suppose I should grant this ? 

A. The natural consequence would be that all other 
planets must bear a close resemblance to our earth in their 
properties and laws, as we have comprehended and developed 
them with the same powers which we use in the examination 
of earthly things, and that the beings inhabiting them cannot 
be so essentially different from us that we need suppose it 
necessary to seek in them for an imaginary and entirely 
different species of being from ourselves, with a different 
apprehension of time and space. 

F. Both your ideas, my friends, appear to me very unna- 
tural. Were we to seek everything in our powers of appre- 
hension alone, no community between man and man could 
subsist; each would be a world for himself; even if we 
admitted that an outward and entirely independent world 
contributes to our experience, it would still be incompre- 
hensible were we to meet only with a system of laws. If we 
were not able to understand the nature of independent ob- 
jects, we should be forced to acknowledge them by the 
continual interruption of those laws which our reason requires. 
To seek for the source of our experience only out of our- 

c 



18 THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

selves is, we are aware, equally vain. Are we not following 
very impracticable paths ? 

A. I see the same difficulties as you do, but I thought it 
better to let them be expressed in words : besides, they 
appear to vanish, if we admit that the world, and the human 
mind, were created according to the same laws. If the laws 
of our reason did not exist in Nature, we should vainly 
attempt to force them upon her ; if the laws of nature did 
not exist in our reason, we should not be able to comprehend 
them. 

F. It is true that the above-mentioned difficulties are thus 
removed, but this preconceived Harmony appears to me 
unnatural. 

A. If that word has the same signification here as in the 
history of philosophy, I must guard myself against it; but 
in the meanwhile I maintain that a Harmony does here exist, 
for man is a production of Nature, therefore the same laws 
must rule in both. 

F. The only thing that offends me here, is to be obliged 
to regard man as a mere production of nature. 

A. I cannot express myself differently, unless I were to 
interrupt the whole course of the ideas we have hitherto 
pursued, but in our researches I have acquired the right to 
say, that our spiritual nature and the world were both created 
by God, and it wiU thus appear that both propositions denote 
the same thing, only in different ways. 

F. But are not the difficulties best removed by those 
who start from the Idea of God, the original Heasoner and 
Designer of all things, and who conceive the universe to 
be his thoughts ? We then are self-animated, self-conscious 
thoughts of the divinity, imbued from our birth with the 
divine thought which lies concealed in the unconscious de- 
partments of nature. 

A. This appears to me the truth, when viewed from the 
side whence we seek the source of existence in the thinking 
principle; but every direction by which we reach the truth, 
only shows it us on one side. If we give precedence to the 
thinking principle, the image which we form of the external 
world becomes faint and shadowy, somewhat like a landscape 
hidden by a cloud; if we begin with the sensible world, 
our freedom retreats too far back. We must approach 
truth from more than one side in order to comprehend it 



4 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 19 

in that totality and completeness which it is possible for us 
to reach. 

F. But you seem to lay too much stress upon the 
external world. Let it appear to us as a shadow, and the 
spirit will see it in its true bearing ; let it lie before us 
in a cloud of light, and we shall be reminded that its light 
is boiTOwed from the world of soul. Or, not to speak in 
metaphors, what can we learn from in-ational existence, 
which is not to be found in our own rational inner nature ? 
And further, I must ask, what can the living soul learn from 
soulless nature ? Shall life go to school with death ? 

A. Alas ! if it is not so. 

F. You certainly misunderstand me. 

A. Pardon me, if I have intentionally allowed the con- 
versation to become somewhat involved, in order to prolong 
your eloquent attack. In the meanwhile it is my real 
opinion that our ujiderstanding is wrongly constituted, if our 
living spirit does not learn something from Nature, by us 
called lifeless. That very freedom which is the highest privi- 
lege of our Reason carries with it the possibility of erring; 
and the profound depth, which leaves there so much to be dis- 
covered, causes it to be to a certain degree a riddle to itself, 
which not unfrequently misleads it. The Reason which is 
manifest in involuntary nature is of itself infallible, and in 
general is less easily misunderstood. How much man is in- 
clined to consider himself the centre of everything ! The 
heavens must turn round him alone ; the stars must foretell 
his fate ; for him the whole is created. Do you believe that 
man would have relinquished these ideas without a study of 
nature ? or do you suppose that a theory of the world with 
which these ideas are intermingled would ever have become 
clear and distinct? Man is naturally inclined to ascribe to 
spirits with human passions events which are beyond his 
power of comprehension, or he attributes to God himself 
himian intentions. Does not natural science banish such 
conceptions of the arbitrary arrangements of the Divinity, 
V'-hich have too often defiled religion itself? 

F. Have there never been any reasoning minds who have 
relinquished such ideas without the aid of natm-al science ? 

A. Certainly, but very few; and I should suppose it only 
occurred because, turning away from nature, they gave her 

c 2 



20 THE SPIKITUAL IN THE MATEKIAL. 

but little of their attention, and absorbed themselves in their 
own thoughts. 

F. Consequently the others were led wrong by their obser- 
vations of nature. 

A. Do not say " by their observation of Nature ;" for it 
was the rough impression of Nature which led them wrong, 
and not a scientific knowledge of it. Besides, the view of 
the world taken by the best philosophers, has been prejudiced 
by their want of natural science. No proof is necessary to 
show that a contemplation of the world is a fundamental 
element of philosophy, but it is no less certain that this 
must be either fruitless, or in many respects false, if it does 
not possess in itself the most essential truths enjoined by 
nature. Even if the philosophers of the present day are not 
unacquainted with the results of the natural sciences, they 
generally pay so little attention to them, that it exercises 
little influence in their inquiries. 

F. So it appears to me; but we ought to return to our 
subject. Has Sophia anything else to ask on what we have 
just been discussing ? 

S. Nothing of importance; though indeed I had one ques- 
tion on my lips when the conversation took the last turn. 
When you alluded to the idea, that the Reason manifested in 
Nature is infallible, while ours is fallible, should you not rather 
have said, that our Reason accords with that of Nature, as 
that in the voice of Nature with ours ? 

A. Each of these interpretations may be justified by the 
idea to which it applies, whether we start from ourselves or 
from external nature. There are yet other ways of expressing 
it; for instance, the laws of Nature are the thoughts of 
Nature. 

S. Then these thoughts of Nature are also thoughts of God. 

A. Undoubtedly so, but however valuable the expression 
may be, I would rather that we should not make use of it till 
we are convinced that our investigation leads to a view of 
Nature, which is also the contemplation of God. We shall 
then feel justified by a different and more perfect knowledge 
to call the thoughts of Nature those of God; I therefore 
beg you will not proceed so fast. 

S. Willingly, for I feel most strongly that we are still distant 
from our goal. Among other things, I wish to ask you 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 21 

whether these thoughts of Nature are, like ours, reciprocally 
connected ? 

A. This is an important question, and we must go through 
a series of considerations that we may arrive at a correct 
answer. 

S. Will it be in the aflSrmative ? 

A. As certainly as Natui'e is an entire and not an im- 
perfect work. The first step in our investigation will be, to 
convince us that the law^s of Nature, by which every indivi- 
i dual thing is governed, not only forms a variety but a totality, 
, a imity, and a whole. Would it fatigue you, if w^e were to 
repeat once more what we said about the waterfall of Sarpen, 
in order to point out this inward and necessary unity? 
I S. I assure you that such momentous considerations never 
; tii'e me, if I can only comprehend what they mean. 

A. The fundamental idea, so far as a fundamental idea can 
be expressed in such a natural object, is a river falling from 
, a height. The water constantly renewed by the incessant 
I stream, falls from a considerable elevation. It obeys the 
same laws of falling as all other bodies, and thus, during its 
fall, receives an ever-increasing velocity. As water, the 
parts naturally roll over one another and disperse, and thus 
! form separate floating drops. By the constant increase in the 
j velocity, the parts which first fell gain a start, which again 
; separates them from those that follow, and this causes a 
violent dispersion; every obstacle scatters innumerable drops 
; in all directions; if I may so express myself, a world of 
. moving drops is created, which, in spite of all the changing 
, circumstances around them, still preserve a degree of indi- 
viduality. The air mingling with the rushing water, makes 
foam, which is composed of numerous air-bubbles, sui- 
rounded by little skins of water, whose remarkable ever- 
vaiying and irregular white sm^ace is w^ell known. The 
height of the tone produced by each individual part, is 
determined by the height of the fall, but its force is not only 
decided by that, but also by the number of the falling parts. 
; The impression which the united sound produces may indeed, 
i in some degree, vary, but it always remains essentially the 
; same. The noisy roar of the foaming fall testifies its destruc- 
tive power, which appears when anything fragile comes 
in its way. All this, as well as much that I may have 
forgotten, and still more which occin'S unknown to me, forms 



22 THE SPIRITITAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

a most Intimately connected whole, in which each individual 
part is formed according to the laws of nature, or, in other 
words, all the thoughts of nature which it contains are 
inseparable from the primary idea. Its distinguishing pecu- 
liarity among other waterfalls, arises from its natural situa- 
tion which is quite peculiar to it. The various changes which 
this phenomenon assumes, in spite of its individual peculiarity, 
are derived from changes in external circumstances ; differ- 
ences in the velocity of the falling stream, in its direction 
and power, the light, the movement of the atmosphere, the 
heat, &c. Thus it stands before us in its peculiar character, 
almost like an animated being, filling our imaginations with 
the image of a powerful although an unconscious giant, a 
slave of nature, with almost unbridled power. 

S. All this seems very clear, but it is very horrible. I feel 
almost more dizzy when looking into the empty nothingness 
of existence, which you unfold before my eyes, than if I 
looked down into the deep gulf of water. 

A. But you would not wish to remain here forsaken, nor 
do you believe that I should leave you in this waste. 

S. Then pray come to my assistance. 

A. My assistance will principally consist in this, that I 
shall encourage you to help yourself. It was undoubtedly 
the apparent unsubstantiality of the object we v/ere con- 
sidering which alarmed you, but reflect that, without a know- 
ledge of science, you must have regarded the same object 
as equally unsubstantial. 

S. I see you are right, but I feared that every other ex- 
isting object might in the same way be resolved into mere 
thought. 

A. Not into mere thought; for all existing objects are 
active forces of nature, which represent to us a unity of 
thought; the grounds of your fear lay elsewhere. 
'S.I believe so, but tell me where ? 

A. The unity of thought here is not represented to us 
as a small and exclusive world of thought, but as a fragment 
of a greater unity of thought. 

S. Yes, I believe that is the case. 

A. But you must expect to find something similar to 
this, if not in the same degree, in every existing thing, since 
every object which is not complete in itself is only a part of 
the great whole. 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 23 

S. But I fear the substantiality of objects will thus disappear. 

A. Your anxiety is not without a cause; and yet, if we 
continue our reflections I do not fear for you. 

S. You have great confidence in me. 

A. I must banish fear from our reflections to its true home. 

S. ^Yhere does it lie? 

A. In existence itself. Take any individual object you 
please from the whole and survey it thoroughly, and you will 
everyw^here meet with dependence and mortality. This com- 
plaint is, as you know, as old as the race of man ; if there is 
anything imperishable, it will not be found in the material 
portion of existence. 

S. I perceive that I was heedlessly on the point of requiring 
what was impossible. But you must pardon me. 

A. I should not have thought of it, had I not feared you 
might be tempted to reproach us for our investigations, and 
say that the view of existence we have taken is less powerful 
and lively than it really is. We must have it deeply impressed 
upon us, that every question bearing on the Invariable in 
nature, if we do not raise ourselves above the standard of 
sensible existence, is apt to lead to a desponding feeling of 
nothingness. We therefore only discover the Invariable by 
means of conclusions founded on reason. 

S. But what is to become of him who does not know how 
to make a* reasonable conclusion? 

A. He is supported by the light of Reason which religion 
bestows. 

S. That is true ; and now let us proceed. 

A. I will now try to give some little idea of those views 
which we must next endeavour to appropriate. We are all 
agreed that, except the fundamental forces in Nature, the 
creating forces, there is nothing constant but those laws by 
which everything is regulated, and that these Laws in Nature 
may justly be called the Thoughts of Nature. The funda- 
mental forces themselves exist in all bodies ; their difference 
only depends upon the natural laws by which they are 
governed. That from which an object derives its enduring 
peculiarity, its peculiar essence, is, therefore, as we have 
already admitted, that combination of Nature's laws by which 
it was produced and is sustained. But the Laws of Nature 
are the Thoughts of Nature, and the essence of things depends 
upon the Thoughts that are expressed in them. In so far as 



24 THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 

any tiling is said to be a distinct essence, all the Thoughts of 
Nature expressed in it must combine in one essential Thought, 
which we call the Idea of the thing. The essence of a thing 
is therefore its living Idea. 

S. Then the essence of a thing becomes a mere thought. 

A. Do not let us forget that I said its living idea, and I 
mean by that the idea realized by the forces of nature. 

S. But I have so often heard and read that the idea can 
never be realized. 

A. In the strictest sense of the word this is perfectly true. 
In each individual the idea is only realized in certain direc- 
tions and with certain peculiar distinctions. This also 
happens in Art. The sculptor never attempts to represent 
in a statue the idea of the complete man, but in every 
individual work he represents him with some one pro- 
minent feature ; Jupiter with power and substantiality ; 
Apollo with youthful animation and inspiration ; Venus with 
the charms of loveliness, Minerva with the stamp of power 
and thought, but united to maidenly dignity. Do not be- 
lieve that what I have said has nearly exhausted the sub- 
ject. I only wish to point out that an idea, or if you will, a 
fundamental idea, may adopt various peculiar forms, which 
we may regard as the expressions of many ideas more accu- 
rately defined. 

S. But are ideas as perfectly realized in nature as in 
Art? 

A. If we consider the collected works of the artist as a 
world of Art, I may venture to say that the world of Nature 
is not inferior to it ; but we will not draw the comparison too 
closely. Nature executes all her Ideas with unnumbered 
variations, and in works whose production occupies an im- 
measurable space of time. The complete idea is expressed in 
the totality of all things. As a philosopher brings out one 
idea in the most varied forms, or as a musician does so when 
he makes variations to a theme, so does Nature, though with 
still greater variety. Each individual is thus a peculiar 
realization of the fundamental Idea of the thing. But fertile 
Nature does not limit herself to exhibit performances of 
which the ideas are isolated ; she appears to us in innumer- 
able alternations of finite relations, which a prejudiced ob- 
server would designate as the most manifest imperfection, but 
.which must appear to one who follows out the course of 



THE SriRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 25 

nature to the highest point to which it should be developed 
in the human race, as separate acts by which the ideas of 
objects are revealed in their whole force to a powerful and 
penetrating understanding. But also in the present state of 
things, where even the most powerful intellect has not reached 
such a height, the scientific man may gain the same insight, 
though by a less wearisome path. 

S. Your views are now perfectly clear ; but allow me to 
put one more question, which occurred to me before, though 
I did not like to interrupt your conversation. You said that 
the peculiarity of things only depended upon laws in Nature, 
but from my own experience, the material which composes 
the thing induces also varieties ; the rose, as I have heard, 
receives its smell from an oil in the plant, the grapes their 
taste from the sugar and different acids they contain, and 
you are better acquainted than I am with innumerable ex- 
amples of a similar kind. 

A. All these materials are only combinations of more simple 
materials, and their union is the result of natural laws. At the 
same time, you touched there on a point which might entangle 
us in researches which have not yet been solved. Allow me, 
therefore, to point out how science has shown the same elements 
to exist in very different plants, and parts of plants, so that 
poisonous plants, and those which afford us nourishment, do 
not receive their essential qualities from the elements out of 
w^hich they are composed, but from the manner in which 
these elements are arranged, i. e. by the natural thoughts, 
which in them are realized. 

S. By this means this doubt is removed. 

A. All things are accordingly realized ideas, but each idea 
is expressed in a very limited form, whereas, when a number 
of natural occurrences happen under one idea, it becomes 
most completely realized ; meanw^hile, every idea in the finite 
world, which is realized in this manner, is again only a part 
of a higher and more enlarged idea. Therefore, the idea of 
each species of animal is only a part of the idea of the whole 
animal kingdom, and this again only a part of a still more 
enlarged idea, which comprises in itself both the animal and 
vegetable kingdom ; this again is a part of the whole idea 
of the earth, which appears to us as an exclusive little world 
in itself, but, notwithstanding, is only a part of a still Kgher 
svstem. 



26 THE SPIHITUAL IX THE MATERIAL. 

H. But is this connection a reality, or only a conception 
of our own brain? 

A. Nature herself shows us that it is her work. Our 
researches, with respect to the formation of the earth, have 
taught us, as I have already said, that it has been developed 
in a long period of time ; that at each new stage of develope- 
ment, new kinds of plants and animals were formed, which 
as much resembled in structure and form the productions of 
the present period of the earth, as different realizations of the 
same fundamental Idea must resemble one another. It is 
besides of great importance to consider the progress of its 
developement. Nature commenced with the lowest organized 
animals and plants, and ascended by degrees through succes- 
sive periods to higher forms, which, at the same time, con- 
stituted in the earlier formations, a less highly developed 
kingdom of creation than what now covers the sm^face of 
the earth. We must also add, that the higher species of 
animals in their embryo condition, proceed from lower stages 
of developement, which are connected with those on which 
the inferior animals remain, and thence they traverse succes- 
sive stages before they reach the end they were intended for. 

H. You need say no more ; I acknowledge the importance 
of your principles. 

A. I shall, therefore, continue to build upon what you 
have conceded. Our globe is a part of our solar system, 
with which it has developed itself, and is in constant re- 
ciprocal action. The idea of the globe is consequently 
included in that of the solar system, but in the same way 
this is again a part of the system above it, that system of 
suns, revealed to us by the milky way, and in which, by 
means of our ingenious optical instruments, and the inferences 
we have drawn from the laws of Nature, we have been en- 
abled to behold what must always remain hidden to the 
unassisted senses of men. This system, which appears so, 
enormous to us, is a part of a more distant and higher system, 
and thus it continues through unboimded space. Even so an 
eternal Whole is created in infinite space, which embraces all 
the ideas realized in existence; but this infinity of ideas is, 
at the same time, included in one operating idea, in an 
infinite living reason. 

H. I can now trust myself to predict the answer which 
you will give to the question which was the cause of our con- 



THE SPIRITUAL IN THE MATERIAL. 27 

versation. The material and the spiritual are inseparably 
united in the li^^ng idea of the Almighty Power by whom 
all things are created. 

S. But, according to this view, man appears to be only 
the most distinguished among the animals, not a free agent, 
nor a reasonable being. 

A. It may appear so at first sight, but we must consider 
that man is distinguished above all other creatures on earth 
by this; viz., that Reason, which all other animals uncon- 
sciously obey, in him is awakened into self-consciousness. 
He is thus a free agent; but remember, only so far as is 
possible to a finite being. 

S. But I still encounter another fearful difficulty; I do 
not see how our immortality is thus secured. 

A. You will meet with no system in which immortality 
is proved. In each it must be left to faith, as it is here; 
but if you ask how this faith can be reconciled with our 
views, and can be justified by them, I limit myself to the 
answer, that, in my opinion, this may be efiected here, at 
least as strongly, if not in a more satisfactory manner, than 
in any other system ; but it requires separate investigation, 
which must be reserved for another occasion. 



THE FOUNTAIN. 



A CONVERSATION. 



When I first went to Paris I used often to visit the Tuileries Gardens, 
and sit down opposite two beautiful fountains. Since that time I have 
been frequently reminded of the impression they made on me^, and the 
following conversation has been the result, which was not however com- 
mitted to paper till a much later period, about eight years ago. When I 
last visited Paxis, in the year 1846, these fountains were replaced by 
others, constructed on a greater scale and far more splendid, they also 
produced more sound, and were perhaps better adapted to the busy 
throng, but on that account less welcome to the traveller, who, seeking 
rest, desires to yield himself to the impressions of nature in one of its 
most pleasing forms. 

Alfred. Feank. ^ 

Alfred. We have wandered about long enough for so 
warm a day. Let us sit down upon this bench, under these 
blossoming lime trees. The delicious fragrance, the cool 
shade, the lofty fountain opposite; every thing imites us. 
To me this is one of the most beautiful spots in the garden. 

Frank. I quite agree with your taste ; it is my favourite 
haunt. I often sit here for a long time, yielding myself to 
the impression of surrounding nature. If any one happened 
to notice me he would think I was lost in thought, and yet 
I often discover that I am in a condition of which it may be 
most correctly said, I am thinking of nothing at all. At the 
same time this state is by no means one of inaction. I might 
feel myself tempted to call it dream-like ; but it neither re- 
sembles dreams in their disconnected ideas, nor in their 
complete abstraction from the remaining portion of our 
consciousness. I feel as if nature spoke to me with a 
thousand tongues, and I were her quiet and self-absorbed 
listener. This is far from being an unprofitable state of mind, 
it not only is accompanied by a feeling of repose, thereby 
bestowing energy for fresh activity, but I often perceive that 



i 



THE FOTJNTAI-N-, 29 

more recollections remain with me than I at first imagined ; 
they may, perhaps, slumber for a time, but wake in my medi- 
tations and thoughts when I require them, and surprise me 
like benevolent friends of whose existence I had not dreamt. 
Now, as your science teaches you how to penetrate the secrets 
of nature ; can you explain this remarkable influence ? 

A. The spot is inviting, and I am delighted to converse 
with you on this subject; but there was something in your 
challenge which makes me fear that om- conversation will not 
be worthy of the tone of mind which the scene demands. 

F. You seem to treat the matter too seriously. 

A. No indeed. I am speaking with deliberation ; but you 
shall decide whether we should not spend oiir time better, if 
we each yielded ourselves silently to our own impressions, 
instead of carrying on a conversation, at the end of which 
we neither of us might know the real opinion of the other. 

F. Can conversation have no better result ? 

A. Yes, certainly, provided we first clear away a certain 
mismiderstanding. 

F. I beg you will do so. 

A. Permit me then to say there is a little irony in your 
challenge. 

F. Do you think so ? 

A. I am persuaded that you think the desired explanation 
impossible, and if we allow your view of the case to be correct 
I grant you to be so far in the right. 

F. Let us hear how much you know of my opinion. 

A. You have to a certain degree imparted it to me your- 
self. I have observed on former occasions, that when you 
ask for a scientific explanation, you require the subject to 
be so entirely sublimated into thoughts, that no metaphysician 
could go further. 

F. I may be permitted to remark that the Poet may be 
also a Metaphysician. If I am to hear an explanation I 
require that it should be thoroughly sifted. 

A. I will not dispute this point, but I cannot undertake 
to give such an explanation. 

F. That means that you can give none at all. 

A. Well, we will not quarrel about words. I do not wish 
that what my science has to say upon our subject should be 
called an explanation, but if from this you imagine that I con- 
sider science can bring forward nothing to throw a light 



30 THE roi:>-TAix. 

upon it, I must guard myself against such a misinter- 
pretation. 

F. Well, I must not attribute to you more than justiy 
belongs to you. 

A. You must, therefore, confess that had this misunder- 
standing been allowed to remain, our conversation would have 
become a reciprocal war of words. ^Miatever I might have 
alleged, would, fi'om your pre-judgment, have been considered 
without a pm'pose, and foreign to the matter ; and you would 
have endeavom-ed to cm-e me of a conceit which I had never 
entertained. In this manner I fi'equently observe long con- 
versations pass away utterly without result, which, had they 
been pursued by the very same men with a more favourable 
commencement, might have created real intellectual enjoy- 
ment. 

F. I cannot deny this, but I confess I have almost forgotten 
what we were going to talk about. 

A. I think I shall be able to point out that a frequent con- 
nection subsists between the active operations of Xatm-e and 
the impressions they produce on us. But I would rather not 
define too accm-ately what I am going to say; listen with 
indulgence to what I bring forward : test it; and then, if 
necessary, we can consider the most suitable teims in which 
to express it. 

F. I perceive you arm yom'self against me, as if I were a 
formidable enemy. 

A. You cease to be so, if you do not expect an attack 
from me, and if you are convinced that science, when rightly 
understood, assimilates with poetiy. 

F. Well then, let us come to the point. 

A. ^Tien I behold this forcible jet of water almost as 
thick as a man's arm, and rising nearly 36 feet high, I am 
secretly impressed with the idea of a power which compels the 
water to ascend contrary to its gravity. 

F. Permit me to interrupt you for a moment. I have 
frequently enjoyed the sight of this fountain without thinking 
of this power. 

A. You ai'e right not to let me proceed if you do not 
imderstand me. But you will perhaps withdraw yom- objection 
when you remember that I spoke of a secret impression. 

F. But if the impression is secret, I can know nothing 
about it, and to me therefore it does not exist. 



THE FOUNTAIN. 31 

A. I assure you, this assertion is only a passing idea ; you 

ve continually received similar secret impressions. It is 

t long since we both witnessed two expert fencei*s engaged 

. a mock fight. One of them especially won our applause. 

Did we then calculate the amount of strength and skill which 

enabled him to handle his weapons so dexterously, and to as- 

me those nimble postiu-es by which he principally showed 
.c complete subjection of his body to his will: Surely both 
lAe strength which he actually put forth, as weU as that more 
passively displayed in his whole frame, contributed to our 
pleasure, not because we remai'ked to each other their unusual 
proportions, but because we were inwardly filled with remem- 
brances, which roused by this sight, pennitted us to feel how 
much power was here manifested. 

F. You are perfectly right. I spoke previously against 
my better knowledge. It just now occurs to me, that I once 
showed this fountain to a child, who had never seen one before, 
and he said, ' How can the water rise upwards here, while 
every where else it falls : ' Thus I am persuaded that we are 
struck with a secret sensation of wonder at this sight. 

A. Did you explain the cause to the child r 

F. Yes, I had no difficulty in doing so. I told the boy 
the name of the lake fi'om which the water comes. He knew 
it, and was aware that it is situated in high groimd: I there- 
fore had only to teU him that the water came fi'om that lake 
through subteiTanean pi^^es, and was driven upwai'ds by the 
pressure of the elevated mass of water. 

A. I fear now that you reti'act the secret wonder of which 
you spoke. 

F. You wish to lead me into temptation, but this time you 
shall not succeed. A secret wonder is always excited at the 
sight of anything imcommon, although on a closer examina- 
tion we may detect the cause. Are you now satisfied: 

A. Yes, we now understand each other delightfully. I 
therefore proceed with much more fi'eedom, and we will fii'st 
glance at the variety of motion exhibited in this fountain. 
"WTiat usually fii'st attracts our attention is the increasing size 
of the rising jet of water. This proceeds fi'om the portions of- 
water during their ascent constantly declining in rapidity, and 

e slower stream requiiing a broader, space for the same 
^oantity of water to pass thi'ough. 

F. I do not quite imderstand you. 



32 THE rOUNTAIN. 

A. Imagine a gate, just broad enough for ten men abreast 
to pass through it, and suppose it was required that a thou- 
sand men thus arranged should pass through, at a regulated 
pace, in the space of one minute ; let this afterwards be tried 
with half the speed, and two minutes would then be requisite 
for the passage ; if however there was a gate by which they 
might still pass in the space of one minute, it must be broad 
enough for twenty men abreast to pass through it at once. 
Now imagine a succession of rings surrounding this jet, and 
each ring to be a gate through which the water has to pass ; 
so much the wider must these become, as the water diminishes 
in velocity. The increase in thickness which the jet acquires 
in its ascent is consequently produced by a succession of 
movements in accordance with the laws of nature. 

F. That is clear. This increasing size, this almost inward 
growth, fetters the imagination, and kindles the idea of an 
inward life ; but in pursuing this idea we meet with another 
active power. The enlargement ceases by the jet of water 
scattering itself into innumerable drops. It seems as if we 
saw a countless number of small, transparent, pendent, twigs, 
consisting of parts which are visibly separate, yet adhering 
so closely to each other that it is as if an unseen agency 
maintained their connection. The latent active power which 
was at work in the connected portion of the thick jet of 
water seems to be here manifested in far richer variety. 

A. I think you have described that very well. 

F. It is for you now to point out the cause of this. 

A. It has been proved by experiment, that water which 
flows out of a reservoir, whether it be upwards, downwards, 
or sideways, receives such a vibratory motion, that hence 
a capability is developed for the formation of drops which 
alter their form at regular intervals of time. For example, 
if in any very short space of time a drop of water should 
sustain a contraction upwards, which would make it some- 
w^hat flatter, in the next period of time it would be con- 
tracted in breadth, which would cause it to become longer. 
Nearest the outlet, all the parts run into one another, forming 
a connected whole ; somewhat farther ofi", where the jet be- 
comes less clear and transparent, they are separated, but still 
apparently flow together, and only at a greater distance the 
visible separation takes place. 

F. But are wq certain that all this really happens? I 



I 



THE FOUXTAIN. S3 

cannot see, for instance, how vre know that the parts which 
apparently run into one another, are really separated. 

A. I ^vill not detain you with an account of the discovery, 
and the first attempts to prove this, but only call your atten- 
tion to one simple demonstration, which has been lately brought 
to li^-ht. It is made by pouring out water in the dark, and 
causing a succession of electric sparks to follow each other 
at very short intervals of time, when the clouded part of the 
jet which pre^-iously seemed connected, we now perceive to 
consist of drops. 

F. Do electric sparks enable us to see objects with greater 
exactitude? 

A. Certainly, in this case. For so long as a rapid succes- 
sion of drops are seen in one uniform light, the eye receives 
new impressions before the previous ones are extinguished, 
on which account one impression is un distinguishable from 
another ; now in the experiment I have just mentioned, 
though the time which elapses between each light is infinitely 
short, each impression remains long enough to form itself, 
and to vanish again, before a new one can interfere with it. 

F. It must be said, to the credit of experimentalists, that 
they know very little of impossibilities. But tell me about 
the tendency there is to form drops when nearer the outlet of 
the stream. 

A. I must again pass over much, which would lead us 
too far from our object, and only mention a few striking 
experiments, which in other respects belong to our subject. 
As musical tones are produced by vibrations from other 
bodies, for instance, a string, or extended skin, or the air 
in a pipe, so we must infer that the vibrations in drops also 
produce tones; and such is really the case. If a stream of 
water exists under circumstances which permit the ear to 
be held close to the jet, and if the impression is not over- 
powered by some extraneous noise, a very low sound is heard 
from the jet itself; but should the stream fall on an extended 
skin, or on a great metal plate, or in an empty metal basin, 
the tone is heard strongly enough to determine the note, and 
at the same time to ascertain the number of vibrations 
which are requisite to produce it. 

F. But is it certain that the tone produced by the skin, 
the plate or the basin, is actually the same as that generated 
by the di'ops ? 



34 THE FOUNTAIN. 

A. I will explain the ease by another well-known experi- 
ment. You will doubtless have often observed that when a 
tuning-fork is struck, it gives a very feeble tone, which at a 
moderate distance is quite inaudible ; but place the handle 
of the fork upon a table, a pane of glass, or a stiffly-stretched 
skin, and its power is wonderfully increased, and whatever 
the material may be, which supplies the strength, the tone 
always remains the same. 

F. That is perfectly true. 

A. In connexion with these experiments on running 
water, there is yet another which I recollect, and which de- 
serves our attention. "When we have discovered the tone of a 
stream of water, and when this tone is produced by very 
powerful vibrations in the jet and body of water, we then 
perceive that a great portion of the connected jet is separated 
into drops ; indeed, when the effect is very strong, this change 
applies to almost the whole of that part ; thus it is established, 
beyond doubt, that the vibrations already exist in the connected 
portion of the jet. 

F. It is wonderful what a sum of inner life lies concealed 
in this fountain. But another question occurs to me ; do we 
not hear the same tones in the splashing which accompanies 
the falling drops ? 

A. No ; those are caused by the blow of the drops against 
the surface of the water. Some might, perhaps, wish this 
noise away, but he who gladly yields himself to the impres- 
sion of Nature as a harmonious whole, will not share in such a 
feeling. The absence of noise in the falling drops would pro- 
duce an uneasy sensation in him, somewhat Kke a body with- 
out a shadow. 

F. It is a happy idea; but I must remonstrate as a 
practical aesthetical philosopher, for I am often annoyed by 
this splashing. 

A. So am I, but. only when I do not yield to the impression 
in its totality ; for instance, when I am too near the object. I 
am convinced the landscape-gardener did not place this bench 
here without reflection. His feeling for natui'e must have 
told him that this fountain would make the most pleasing im- 
pression when contemplated from this position. To be so 
near, that the splashing is too loudly heard, that the fountain 
cannot be properly surveyed, and that it does not form an 
agreeable whole with the neighbouring objects, is very much 



I 



THE FOUNTAIJT. 35 

the same as if a picture is seen in a false light, or under sur- 
rounding influences of a disturbing nature. 

F. I must allow that you are in the right. 

A. But we must not consider the case only on one side. 
The sound which is produced carries life and activity into the 
whole. This sound is naturally composed of innumerable 
single ones, and the effect produced receives its peculiarity 
from the prevailing gradation among the individual parts. 
The various drops descending in different arches, produce a 
succession of regular alternations of sound. In the collected 
impression which we thence receive, the various disorderly 
impressions, though individually slumbering to us, arrange 
themselves, and thus contribute to give an ascendancy to the 
sensation of repose and peace. 

F. Here we have an insight into the connection between 
external nature, and the impressions which it produces on us. 

A. And now let us consider the paths which are pm^sued 
by the different portions of the jet. These patlis follow the 
laws of projection. You perceive that the water is driven 
upwards out of the mouth of the pipe. Whenever a body 
begins to move freely in this direction, it would continue un- 
interruptedly to do so, if the force of gravity did not con- 
stantly di'aw it downwards. Hence the motion is forced to 
describe a curved line, which is knowm by the name of the 
parabola. It can be demonstrated, that this figure is the 
expression of an important unity of thought, and it is proved 
by experiment that such forms awaken in us a feeling of the 
Beautiful. 

F. Here, however, we are not concerned with one path, 
but with many, which, as it seems to me, do not all describe 
the same figure. 

A. And such is the case. By the influence of other forces 
on the water, deviations are produced ; the resistance of the 
atmosphere is not without its influence, but still a middle 
direction remains, which does not deviate perceptibly from 
the parabola, and the other paths lie around, in a regular 
series of approaches to that form. Hence arises a greater 
inward variety, besides a more comprehensive unity : and in 
this manner the impression gains peculiar copiousness and 
depth of thought. 

F. I must beg of you to explain this last expression more 
accurately. 

B 2 



36 THE FOUNTAIN". 

A. Willingly, though I will now only specify the argu- 
ment nearest at hand, and not repeat the whole chain of 
ideas, which you formerly were justified in demanding. 
With this proviso I reply, that the laws of nature in the 
external world are the same as the thoughts within ourselves. 
The former are the eternal thoughts which science unfolds, 
and by which all things are regulated, though they are un- 
conscious of it themselves ; the latter are the same eternal 
thoughts, but produced in ourselves. Thus, wherever a 
variety of natural laws co-operate under one governing unity, 
we find everywhere a fulness of ideas ; and I maintain 
that our inner sense, which is constructed in conformity to 
the same laws, comprehends this as the Beautiful. 

F. Your meaning is sufficiently clear to me, and I must 
not interrupt our conversation to require proofs for the asser- 
tions w^hich you maintain. I beg you rather to give me your 
views on a different effect, which has just attracted my atten- 
tion. It appears to me, that there is a peculiarity in the 
light proceeding from that jet of water; it neither resembles 
the light of pearls, nor that which proceeds from still water, 
— ^there is a particular kind of glitter in it. 

A. This is natural to the phenomenon. While the foun- 
tain floats before our senses, in some degree as a still image, 
though, at the same time, the falling drops are constantly 
leaving their position, and are succeeded by fresh ones, the 
light naturally comes to us with all the tremulous motion 
which the reflection from incessantly changing objects must 
produce. I do not only mean the change of the position 
which the drops sustain ; there are besides two other circum- 
stances to consider, — one, which I have already mentioned, is 
the frequent change of form in every drop from inward vibra- 
tions, and which occurs so rapidly, that the impressions they 
produce are indeed undistinguishable, but which give a pecu- 
liar character to the reflected light; the other consists in this, 
that the series of drops are really composed of large drops, 
and very small intervening ones. When I spoke of the 
formation of drops, I did not think it necessary to mention 
this ; however, these small drops are connected with our 
subject, and claim our attention. The eye thus receives a 
complete series of inwardly connected impressions, which 
in no wise resemble those produced by transparent and im- 
movable bodies. 



THE FOUNTAIN, 37 

F. I have sometimes received similar impressions from 
drops when they fall from the roof after heavy rain, or in a 
thaw when the sun has shone on them. 

A. These impressions must have some analogy, as the 
formation of drops obeys the same laws in this as in the 
other case. 

F. As I require no farther explanation on this point just 
now, I will propose one general question. I have seen many 
fountains which were very different from the present one. I 
have seen some rush out with much greater force in propor- 
tion to their size, and disperse themselves in far finer drops, 
and thus lose the impression of repose in motion here so 
clearly expressed. A few years ago I saw another great 
fountain, which made a very different impression upon me. 
It does not at all surprise me that small ones, like everything 
insignificant, should make but a slight impression; I can 
myself fancy that a fountain on a very small scale, would 
excite derision similar to an unsuccessful experiment, but 
still the individual peculiarities of every fountain may be 
worth om' notice. 

A. Let us first consider those fountains which are ejected 
by a force proportionate to their mass of water. The in- 
creased action of the inward motion, and more resist- 
ance from the atmosphere, are sufficient causes for the 
greater dispersion which is produced, and, therefore, as you 
observed, you are sensible of a more forcible stamp of 
life and motion; they roar and foam, and almost overpower 
us with their force : on which account they seem to me better 
suited for large and populous cities, and public gardens, than 
for more retired situations, w^hich harmonize with a heavier 
and slower stream of w^ater. 

F. What do you say to those fountains resembling this 
one in every essential respect, but constructed on a much 
larger scale ? 

A. I had myself an opportunity of experiencing the dif- 
ferent impression that is produced by one of such an enormous 
size, for the fountain which gave rise to this feeling was, 
if I rightly remember, 180 feet high, and as thick as a 
man's body; when I stood so near that I could distinguish 
the individual parts, I was unable to survey the whole, at 
least not so as to command the entire form; and, added to 
this, the noise of the falling di'ops was so stunning, that it 



38 THE FOUKTAIN. 

deadened the impression of tlie smaller falling movements. 
We cannot, indeed, exactly distinguish these impressions, 
but we are, notwithstanding, sensible of their existence. 
More powerful and imposing than most other fountains, 
the impression it otherwise made on me was rather elevating 
than pleasing. The inward harmony was not destroyed, but 
obliged to succumb to a feeling of greater strength and 
power. 

F. You are right. When viewing a powerful waterfall, 
the Harmonious is still less perceived, and in a stormy sea it 
is almost extinguished; the impression of the Great and the 
Sublime there rules paramount; there does, however, exist a 
certain degree of magnitude which is no longer beautiful. 

A. Indisputably, if we take the word beautiful in its 
usual limited signification; but it seems to me, in spite of 
all differences, that there is a fundamental similarity between 
that faculty of the soul by which we comprehend the 
sublime, and that by which we comprehend what we pecu- 
liarly designate beautiful, namely, an unconscious reason in 
nature, which is here apparent. In my opinion, whether we 
have or have not arrived at a clear conviction, that reason 
pervades nature, yet, in proportion to the manifestation of 
universal harmony surrounding us, most men perceive the 
accordance of the iip.pressions of nature with this hidden 
reason. A stormy sea, a tempest, lightning, all manifest 
themselves as powers, through which the unknown spirit of 
nature reveals itself. A wide expanse of surface, such as the 
vaidt of heaven, a great extent of ocean, a lofty chain of 
mountains, excite a feeling in us nearly akin to this. They 
appear as the works of the eternal power of nature, and 
arouse within us the feeling of an independent and an all- 
ruling Being. 

F. But I have often felt very differently when in the 
presence of such great objects. I well remember that once, 
in a mountainous country, when an enormous precipice rose 
before me, I was overcome by a sense of desertion and death. 

A. That often happens when there is nothing present to 
remind us powerfully of life and activity. If the feeling of 
the Sublime overcomes us when, standing on a barren, stony 
plain, we look upwards towards a huge wall of rock, it chiefly 
arises because our spirit, amidst innumerable recollections, 
suddenly awakened by other circumstances, turns towards the 



I 



THE rOUNTAIN. 89 

power which has produced the object. This object itself 
does not awaken any strong feeling; and that spirit must 
have had a peculiar tendency and tone which would rather 
dwell on the Sublime than tremble before the overwhelming 
presence of death. It is very different when mountains rise 
in various forms before us ; when waterfalls glitter, foam, and 
roar ; when woods and pastm^e-land prove the fertility of the 
soil ; and when birds and insects enliven the air : then Nature 
herself bids us turn our thoughts to the Sublime. Without a 
previous sense of the inner life of reason, that which might 
otherwise be called beautiful would be dead. That which is 
full of life arouses it in om'selves ; and this feehng of life 
appertains to the complete enjoyment of beauty. What a 
rich variety of inward activity we beheld in that fountain ; 
were this to be separated from it, all besides would leave but 
a faint impression ! An attempt to represent it in painting 
might in some degree please the eye, if it were executed in a 
masterly manner ; but the enjoyment which arises from the 
peculiar natm-e of the object would be much diminished, 
because motion, lustre, and the play of Kght, could never be 
represented in a pictm-e. I have several times seen pictures 
of foimtains, but the impression they produced upon me was 
very poor. 

F. I cannot contradict you. Then you require that the 
Beautiful should comprehend the Sublime, the Living, and the 
HaiTQonious ; but after what you have expressed about the 
Sublime, it appears to me this is only a peculiar quality of 
the Living. You particularly cited active operations as 
examples. 

A. And great effects as well ; yet T do not deny that these 
all point to the power which produces. In the Sublime, 
however, our thoughts do not dwell with the active power, 
but with the independence which is there revealed ; this may 
happen in different ways, so that I consider the Sublime may 
be divided into many sorts ; however, we will not enter on 
this subject, but I will merely observe that all conditions of 
beauty are so inwardly connected, that they always appear to 
us united. 

F. The evening closes in, and I must leave you, as I am 
expected at home ; but reflecting with pleasm-e on our con« 
versation, I confess I am surprised by some unpleasant feelings. 
It seems to me as if our observations had been too material. 



40 THE FOUNTAIN. 

A. We are apt to feel this whenever we trace a connexion 
between our own inner life and the influences of external 
nature ; but does it originate from our comprehending nature 
in too material a manner ? It seems to me, in such cases, we 
forget, or rather we do not sufficiently remember, that Nature 
is the work of the same Spirit to whom we owe our own 
being. When we figure to ourselves the idea in its full 
reality, that it is the same reason, the same creative forces, 
which reveal themselves in external nature as in om' own 
thoughts and feelings, our connection with nature must then 
appear as a part of the great harmony of existence, but not 
as a consequence of the preponderance of the Material over 
the Spiritual. 

F. You are right. I should have known better than to 
make such a mistake ; our conversation comprehends enough 
to meet these difficulties. 



THE COMPREHENSION OF NATURE 



BY 



THOUGHT AND IMAGINATION. 



Communicated at the Meeting of Scandinavian Philosopliers in 
Christiania, 1844. 

It is well kno\vii that man pursues very different paths in^ 
the development of his faculties, and in his apprehension of 
the surrounding world, and that these paths are again sub- 
divided into various smaller ones, which are followed century 
after century, but without ever being sufficiently connected 
to render it possible for them to form an organic whole. 
This is the case even in those sciences which start from the 
most closely connected efforts. How long it was before- 
geography and botany imited to form a geography of plants, 
and how lately has geology become connected with geo- 
graphy, as well as with zoology and botany, though they 
all approach so nearly to one another ! And is it not, 
therefore, natural that a much greater interval should remain 
uncultivated between those modes of comprehension which 
are under the dominion of very different faculties of the soul ^ 
By this, I mean the comprehension of nature on the one 
hand, by the mind, on the other, by the imagination. It is 
true the same active forces exist in both. That faculty of 
thought which enables us to apprehend surrounding nature, 
can as little dispense with mental perception, which is the 
basis of all our knowledge of the outer world, as imagination 
can dispense with that power of thought, which gives a form^ 
to all her creations. The different manner, however, in which 
they manifest themselves, cannot be mistaken ; they have 
each their peculiar domain in which they must respectively 
act, and mould themselves according to their own fashion. 
An incompetent exercise of the imagination on questions of 
science, or of abstract thought on art, operates, as is well 



42 THE COMPHEHENSION OE NATURE 

known, with a prejudicial influence. We have many ex- 
amples of this in the poetical attempts which have often been 
made on scientific subjects, and in the still more frequent 
endeavours to submit art solely to the dictates of Reason ; but 
this has given rise to exaggerated fears in those who have 
felt these abuses. It is not my intention to mention here 
how this one-sidedness exhibits itself among the labourers 
in the field of science; but it is this dread of exercising 
reason, so frequently existing in those who have lived too 
exclusively in the world of their own imaginations, which I 
now mean to consider. This dread is by no means equally 
expressed in all directions by the same men; there are many, 
in all the social afiairs of life, and in all those sciences 
w^hich are most nearly connected with mankind and human 
events, who allow full play to thought, and the knowledge 
derived from it, in order that it may regulate the con- 
stant action by which their world of imagination is formed ; 
but the insight w^hich is gained from physical science has 
not been able to get the same justice at their hands in con- 
sequence of their not being so intimately acquainted with it. 
Therefore the greater proportion of mankind have deve- 
loped, in their contemplation of the physical universe, a 
wonderful mixture of the knowledge of the present day, and 
of ideas of nature which belong chiefly to the childhood of 
the human race. There is much that is fabulous in this con- 
ception of nature, but we cannot dispense with it, as there is 
nothing which we can ofier in exchange for the faculty of the 
imagination. Even all that it contributes to the external 
adornment and support of religion, or to fill the blank which 
we are sensible of in reference to our knowledge of higher 
things, belongs to a past age. Hence arises that strange dread, 
possessed by so many, of the results of science ; a dread which 
threatens to destroy that world which their faith and feeling 
for the Beautiful, had created ; thus they are consigned to a 
vacuity and nothingness which would indeed be fearful were 
it unavoidable, and the triumphant conquests of natural science 
which give us the purest pleasure, are for such unhappy beings 
no less than the dangerous approaches of a conquering foe. 
Their greatest desire is that this foe should be driven back, 
and at times they entertain some faint hopes of it, which 
however are repeatedly destroyed by a stronger feeling of the 
truth, so that in reality they dare not commit themselves to 



BY THOUGHT AND IMAGINATION. 43 

^!ie truth of their own existence, and therefore are happiest 
iien able to forget this dangerous enemy. 
Such being the case, the investigator of natural science 
considers it his duty to demonstrate how the truths which are 
obtained by reflection and observation of Nature, contain rich 
materials for the imagination; these however must be em- 

• ployed only on one condition ; namely, that we must become 

• as intimately acquainted with those truths as we have been 
with the legends of the past. It is not, however, obli- 
gatory that every one should study the laws of science, 
any more than that the customary education hitherto given 
presupposes a thorough acquaintance with the world of 
legends ; on the contrary, natm-alists must persevere in their 
efforts, and, indeed, with renewed ardom% to facilitate the 
study of the truths of natural science, and to develop the 
real life of nature contained in them ; it is vain to clothe 
them in the present day with the garb of ancient poetry. 
The most ignorant among us, as participators in a common 
inheritance, have unconsciously gained a knowledge of natm'e 
very different from that contemplation of the universe co- 
incident with the childhood of the human race; on the 
other hand this does not lead to those views that are de- 
veloped by a more advanced knowledge of science. In the 
present century, therefore, w^e feel more than ever the neces- 
sity of reconcihng the world of reason and imagination. 
This reconciliation is indeed not to be effected in a moment, 
but must be the fruit of repeated efforts ; and to contribute to 
them, a succession of examples will serve to prove how the 
intuitive, and what is nearly related to it, the prophetic view 
of nature, may be more exactly defined and fm'ther developed 
by means of the profounder knowledge which is derived from 
reflection. 

I therefore venture to offer what foUows ; and I select as 
my object the most sublime I can conceive, which is the 
starry firmament. I am avrare that there have been ill- 
timed and injudicious remarks, w^hich have injured this sub- 
ject in the estimation of many, but this shall not deter me 
from investigating the source of those feelings which are 
excited when contemplating the stars, if thought is allowed 
to follow its natural impulse, and is not distracted by other 
ideas. I perhaps may displease some, by communicating 



44 TFIE COMPEEHENSION OF NATURE 

much which is already well known ; but if I am to include 
all I wish to say, this is unavoidable. 

Let us first consider the impression produced, on a quiet 
night, by a clear cloudless sky. There is a universal impression 
in it which is felt by all men. The clearness and force of the 
impression, however, is not alone modified according to the 
different temperaments peculiar to each man, but also in 
proportion to the different degrees of mental culture each 
may have received. It is this point towards which we will 
principally direct our attention, but we must first take into 
account and lay aside that which is common to all. 

We need scarcely mention the vastness of the impression 
which the starry heavens produce, since it is so powerful as to 
be felt by every one. He even who seeks no more than the 
gratification of his senses, and whose dawning reason is but 
faintly traceable in his sensational apprehensions, must ac- 
knowledge that the canopy of heaven is the grandest object 
he knows : this vast extent however would be dead and blank 
to us were it not enlivened by the innumerable host of stars. 
Their light comes to us with double force from the darkness of 
the surrounding earth, w^hen those objects which remind us of 
the trivial circumstances of daily Hfe or which are of transitory 
importance, and which would otherwise attract om* attention 
on all sides, are invisible. This enlarges the scale of our ideas, 
and quickens our perceptions for the reception of that Kght 
which proceeds from a higher, a greater, and a less transitory 
world. The glorious nature of light is here wonderfully mani- 
fested; its animating and beneficial effects have in all times 
caused it to be the most beautiful emblem of life and virtue* 
Beneath the mild, clear, undazzling light of stars, which 
scarcely enables us to see anything around us, while, if I 
may so express myself, the light shines but to manifest itself, 
we feel as if Light, and Life, and Happiness dwelt far away 
above us in those distant regions, while, on the other hand, 
Darkness, Death, and Terror remained here on earth. This 
idea interpreted in one manner may be easily misunderstood; 
but the feeling which such a sight exercises upon the unper- 
verted senses has nothing to do with these misconstructions. 

Added to all this, we have the deep, and, we may say, 
tangible silence of night, by which the ear receives as faint 
impressions of the world beneath us, as are conveyed to the 



BY THOUGHT AND IMAGINATION. 45 

eye by the mild starlight. In short, it is not a mere flight of 
the imagination which causes our devotional feelings to be 
excited on a starlight night, but it springs from a feeling 
deeply rooted in our nature. 

rioV different is the impression of a moonlight night. The 
mild light of the moon's disk, unlike that of the sun, does not 
oblige us to lower our eyes, but rather draws them upwards 
to Heaven. At the same time, it so far overpowers the light 
of stai's that they no longer attract our notice, and sometimes 
become almost invisible. Moonlight also show^s just so much 
of earth as to prevent our entirely forgetting it ; thus. Fancy 
and Thought, rapt in mild enthusiasm, hover indefinitely 
between Heaven and Earth. 

Let us now consider the forms which this original view 
assumes in the different degrees of development of the human 
mind. We can easily fancy the impression of a starlight 
night on the mind of uncivilized man : the expansive vault, 
rising above the surrounding woods and mountains, embraces 
all that is known to him of the earth's surface. His ideas 
of measurement are indeed far too limited to grasp the 
expanse of Heaven : and yet it is the most imposing object 
he knows ; the stars to him are only points of light, but the 
clearness and purity of that light is not without its influence. 
The contrast between the bright vault of heaven and the dark 
earth, the silence, and the accompanying repose of mind, 
are so familiar to our senses, that we are none of us strangers 
to the impression. 

Let us now imagine a man whose powers of intellect and 
observation are perceptibly developed ; his conception of the 
immensity of the heavens will have proportionately increased. 
He has noticed particular stars, which he again recognises, 
and some distinguished groups more especially attract his 
attention : he has w^atched them over distant mountain sum- 
mits, and as he advanced, perceived how their remoteness to 
each other seemed to increase, while their distance from him 
remained the same ; this distance must consequently be so im- 
mense, that the journey he has made can bear no comparison 
with it. He now therefore has a greater standard by which 
to take his measurements : this enlarges his conception of the 
extent of the heavens. He observes that all terrestrial lights 
grow feebler and feebler the farther they are removed from 
us, and at a comparatively small distance they totally disap- 



46 THE COMPREHENSION OF NATURE 

pear. But the lights of heaven which he knows, are many 
times more distant than the farthest hills, yet remain as pure 
and clear as if they belonged to a different order of things. 
He has arrived at these conclusions by observation and re- 
flection, but the recollection of the resrdts follow him in those 
hours in which he quietly resigns himself to the great impres- 
sion of nature. 

We will now imagine one so far advanced as to have 
acquired a certain knowledge of astronomy, as much as we 
may suppose was the case with the Chaldseaus, and the aspect 
of the heavens increases in magnitude and completeness. He 
now knows that among the lesser stars, some wander in a 
pre-ordained path, while others are fixed in the vault of 
heaven ; and he knows that these, as well as the sun and 
moon, have a regulated course. The uninterrupted obser- 
vations of successive races have led to some knowledge of the 
unequal distances of these wandering bodies, but we may feel 
sure that he does not recapitulate all the knowledge which 
has residted from the enquiries of the human race, and which 
is in some part his own, whenever be resigns himself to the 
impression which the heavenly bodies produce ; yet, still those 
discoveries are as present to his contemplation as the occur- 
rences of every-day life are to men in general. His scale of 
measurement is far larger than on the former position he held ; 
the remoteness of the moon seems to him now enormous com- 
pared to all the distances on earth, and yet very small in com- 
parison with those of the other heavenly bodies before which the 
moon frequently passes, and which it conceals from our view. It 
will be evident to every one how the idea of the magnitude of 
the heavens has increased in size and in importance ; and added 
to this, there is now the still grander idea of an order existing 
among the heavenly movements, which is also full of beneficial 
results to our earth. It is the thought of a reasonable guidance, 
independent of the earth ; of a higher Reason manifested in 
accordance with the condition of human nature, though not 
devoid of extraneous elements. From the previous position 
on which we stood, imagination filled up the empty space 
in knowledge, by the idea that a Sun-god guided the 
flaming car of Day across the Heavens, that he might repose 
at night on the lap of Ocean. The moon traversing the vault 
of heaven was also deified. These ideas yield at a very early 
stage of astronomical science, though they linger long among 



I 



BY THOUGHT AND IMAGINATION. 47 

the multitude; and not only among the ignorant, but even 
with those who have receiyed some education, which however 
may not haye included a diligent study of the heayens. The 
idea on the other hand has not yet reached the unity of a 
divine guidance ; each of the wandering stars receives the 
name of a particular divinity endowed with earthly attri- 
butes. The incalculable influence of the sun upon the earth, 
as well as that of the moon, which is by no means inconsider- 
able, easily gives rise to the thought, that by their light, as 
by their periodical variations, the other lights of heaven are 
also not without their influence on human events ; and this idea 
must have been still more firmly grounded, because no one 
ever imagined that the influence of the heavens extended 
beyond the earth. Though the gods had a higher existence, 
th(?y were still gods of the earth, and this earth was the 
central point of the whole. People then began to ascribe to 
the lesser planets an influence on the fate of individual men; 
thus arose Astrology, which among other human follies has 
been so warmly supported. It is easy to perceive how the 
worship of the sun, or all the heavenly bodies, suited these 
views ; but on the other hand, much of the old fabulous lore, 
the remains of earlier times, could only have existed simul- 
taneously with it, because no one ventured to open the eyes 
of the multitude. 

The conception then entertained of the structure of the 
heavens must have been false and narrow; although far more 
comprehensive than at an earlier period. At first it was be- 
lieved that the whole arch of heaven moved round the earth, 
and that the paths which the planets follow lay within this 
arch; no one ever imagined that it was not stationary. It 
was called the "Fortress of Heaven," the firmament w^hich 
rested on firm foundations, for instance, on the highest hills; 
but at a later period it was observed that each of these 
wandering lights pursued separate paths, and were at different 
distances from the earth, each had its individual transparent 
crystal arch ; and above all these arches the fixed lights of 
heaven were supposed to dwell, the pure empyrean, the 
abode of the highest Immutability. All were obliged, such 
was the received opinion, to move round one common axis. 
Thus it was beheved that the wandering planets occupied 
seven heavens, and that the eighth was the dwelling of eternal 
Light, and eternal Immutability. 



48 THE COMPREHEIS'SIOK OP NATURE 

Although we have now left this point of view far behind 
us, we must yet confess that the soul which drew nourish- 
ment from this knowledge received a more comprehensive 
impression of the heavens than at earlier stages of develop- 
ment ; and that, above all, it was accompanied by the idea 
of the existence of divine guidance, which, in spite of many 
attending errors, has always had an exalting and ennobling 
tendency. 

We can select no resting-place in the progress of astronomy 
between this and the Copernican period. The additional 
-discoveries were fewer, and less striking, though they con- 
tinually presented greater difficulties in the way of astro- , 
Bomers who endeavoured to harmonize their observations 
with their ideas of the structure of the universe. But 
externally Christianity had introduced a new conception of 
the world. The structure of the universe was now acknow- 
ledged to be the work of one God. This conviction had 
indeed already existed at an earlier period, on one small spot 
on earth, among a few gifted men who lived insulated among 
the heathens ; but we would not by this be led aside from the 
more general course of events. By Christianity our thoughts 
became purer, our exaltation towards God higher and more 
glorious ; buit this was not owing to astronomy. On the 
other hand, it must be conceded that, by it, the Christian 
imagination gains a conception of space in which to place the 
various habitations of the blessed amidst the countless arches 
of heaven. 

In later times, from the Copernican period to the present 
day, there are many resting points ; but the knowledge that 
lias been gained during that space of time is so inter- 
woven, that we can form a clearer view of the whole, if we 
at once transport ourselves to the present period ; and when 
we have grasped what is to be seen from that position, we 
may, if we desire it, easily return to earlier epochs. 

The observation of the heavens has now gained an entirely 
different character : the fixed vault has disappeared ; the 
earth is no longer the central point, but a heavenly body 
floating among an endless number of other planets ; it is, in 
fact, received into the heavenly system. This view gives 
us an entirely new impression of magnitude. We derive 
measurements and calculations from it which exhibit distances, 
compared to which millions of miles are nothing. The un- 



BY THOUGHT AND IMAGINATIOIST. 49 

initiated hear of these proportions with wonder, and view the 
matter with trust or doubt, according to their different dis- 
positions ; but among the uninitiated, there are some intel- 
lectual men who, with fancied superiority, have ridiculed 
those who took pleasure in hearing of such high numbers. 
Great and small, they say, are merely relative conditions : an 
ell is large compared to a hair's breadth, but small when 
compared to a mile ; and again, what is a mile in comparison 
with the circumference of the earth ? Every degree of mag- 
nitude may be opposed to another w^hich might exceed it in 
quantity. Is it not, therefore, childish to delight in the high 
numbers of astronomy ? 

This would all be quite correct, were we only speaking of 
abstract numbers ; but this is by no means the case. The 
importance of these high numbers lies in their being viewed 
as signs and links in the system of the universe, and as an 
organic whole. As for instance, when the bulk of a whale 
is valued alone by the number of ells it measures, it conveys 
no meaning to us ; but when the creature is considered as a 
link in the animal creation, then the numbers become of im- 
portance ; it is the same mth regard to astronomical numbers, 
though in a far higher degree. The peculiar nature of the 
case, however, obliges us to view our object more accurately 
with reference to this relative measurement. We always begin 
from some w^ell -known size perceptible to the senses, and chiefly 
from some relative proportion in our own bodies ; the thumb, 
the width of the hand, the length of the arm, the fathom, the 
foot, or the footstep ; almost all other measurements are 
, derived from these. The mile, or whatever other standard 
, we may select to express the measurement of the roads, is 
only a multiplication of the same scale ; for instance, of the 
foot, or the footstep : the circumference of the earth, or its 
. diameter, is again but a repetition of the elementary standard 
of the road measurement, and thus, even when w^e fix on the 
metre or pendulum as our scale, we ourselves still continue to 
; be the elementary standard, and our imagination always leads 
) us back to ourselves. When the exact diameter of the earth 
; is fixed according to the established standard of measurement, 
j we are able to determine the distances of our solar system, 
i and also those of the fixed stars, by the distances of the sun ; 
: thus, if we may so express it, there is a connecting link 
I between all the results of scientific measurement. But that 



50 THE COMPHEHENSION OF NATURE 

our imagination may embrace these calculations, we must 
submit them to its influence ; and when we view our earth in 
this light, it is no more than a grain of sand to a lofty moun- 
tain, when compared to the whole system of the universe : 
again, the whole of the solar system is but as a drop to the 
whole ocean, when compared with that, system of suns 
revealed by the multitude of stars in the Milky "Way ; even 
this great system of suns is but as a mote in a sunbeam to 
the whole earth, when balanced with still remoter and higher 
arrangements. Our imagination is at once reminded of those 
researches which prove that all these vast numbers form a 
connected series of mutually connected links of being, reci- 
procally acting and re-acting on each other. Well then, are 
not the starry heavens a far wider field for the imaginative 
powers than at an earlier degree of developement in the 
human race ? and are not those vast measurements wonder- 
fully rich in interest, when considered in their countless 
inward connections, even if only cursorily viewed as a system 
of magnitudes ? 

As a deeper insight into these things infinitely increases 
our conception of space, filled as it is with w^orlds and their 
revolutions, so is it also with the existence of those worlds in 
reference to duration. Amidst the numerous variations in 
the movements of the planets which have been completed, 
and recommenced after a certain space of time, we must 
allow some to have occupied many thousand years. The 
precession of the equinoxes, for instance, occupies a period of 
25,600 years : the extremely involved variations which the 
inclination of the ecliptic is subject to, require a period of 
40,350 years, and another of 92,930 years. The time which 
our system requires to circulate round the higher system to 
which it belongs, must indeed far exceed even these. The 
exact time is still unknown, but we may say with the most 
perfect safety that thousands of years are as nothing to it. 
Here again, however, if our imagination takes man and the 
duration of the human race as its standard, we gain an idea 
of the durability of nature far beyond the limited notions of 
ordinary life, since it neither conceives of Bemg as something 
dead and stationary, nor despairs over the Finite as ever 
doomed to mutability. Thought and imagination, matured 
by scientific knowledge, can alone discern eternity through 
the light of stars. 



BY THOUGHT AND IMAGINATION. 51 

Science does not dwell upon inactive magnitudes ; it was 
only that we might gain a clearer view, that we separated 
theln for a few moments from active objects. All enlight- 
ened men are aware that every planet is a globe like our own, 
though it is a singular result of the dominant tendency of 
our minds, that this idea only occupies a subordinate situation 
with most people, who are full of false opinions and ideas which 
must be destroyed if the full import of this truth is understood. 
It is not sufficient to know that the other planets resemble 
our earth, and that some of them are considerably larger; 
we must dwell on this idea, and graft it on our minds. How 
unimportant, for instance, are events of the utmost interest to 
those who may perhaps have heard of such things, but w^ho 
have never sufficiently considered them, so as to be convinced 
of their reality. The most triffing village gossip frequently 
excites a greater interest than events which have altered the 
entii'e face of the globe : the same may be applied, in a 
different manner, to the knowledge of the structure of the 
universe in those who, though the study of astronomy may 
have been neglected, are highly cultivated in other respects. 
But we must not stop at a superficial knowledge of it : he 
who w^ould truly enjoy the contemplation of the heavens, 
must live in long and intimate communion with what they 
teach us ; he must have beheld the mountains in the moon, 
and admired the exactitude by which their height is ascer- 
tained by their shadows, by the order in which their summits 
are illuminated by the sun. Thence he must turn to the 
planets, and be convinced that they have not a smooth 
surface, but that, like the earth and moon, they also have 
hills and valleys : he must occasionally have endeavoured 
to carry himself in thought to one or other of these distant 
planets; for instance, to Jupiter, whence he would behold 
our earth twinkling like a little star, and by the aid of 
magnifying instruments might search for and discover our 
moon ; he would there see the rapid alternation from labour 
to repose during the short day of ten hours ; and on the other 
hand, witness the long duration of the seasons, which include 
more than eleven of our earthly years. Our sun will seem 
five and twenty times smaller than it does to iis, but then it 
Wanders in the varying light of four moons. Pursuing the 
orbit of this planet, which is Rye times greater than that of 
our earth, he will gain a far more comprehensive insight into 

£2 



52 THE COMPREHENSION OF NATURE 

the region of space, though he will scarcely carry away more 
impressions than from a dream. The spirit must not tire ; 
it must wander beyond oui sun's dominions, and must re- 
cognize a peculiar sun in every fixed star, surrounded like 
ours by wandering planets, to w^hich it gives day and night, 
spring and summer, autumn and winter. He must acknow- 
ledge that there are harmonious arrangements beyond even 
these, in w^hich suns like our planets are parts of a great 
system ; this again is part of a higher and higher still, thought 
having no limits to confine it. He who has ever lived in 
close communion with this idea, which we have but just 
glanced at, will bear it in mind when beneath a starlit sky^ 
and w^ill receive from it a rich and vivid impression. Should 
there be any one who has not experienced this feeling, and 
who, trusting to his mental developement in other branches 
of knowledge, thinks he is justified in regarding it with 
scorn, we may remind him of the words of the profound 
philosopher Malebranche, who after listening to one of Ra- 
cine's tragedies, inquired, " "What does it prove ? " 

We have not yet alluded to the idea which is suggested hy 
the stars, of the existence of inhabitants of other worlds ; but 
in considering what an innumerable variety of beings endowed 
with reason may be distributed throughout this vast space, we- 
must not forget that it has been lately asserted that reasonable- 
creatures exist exclusively on our own earth ; and that, with 
the exception of man, none do, or ever have existed, through- 
out the universe of being. 

If we view the case in an abstract light, we may possibly 
arrive at the conclusion that creation on our earth has 
attained its highest development, and that there exist no 
other beings endowed with reason on any of the other heavenly 
bodies. If we stop short at this point, we may be easily led 
astray by principles which are foreign to the matter ; for in- 
stance, by one-sided poetical or religious views, which may 
bestow an air of possibility, or even probability, to the idea ; 
but if, on the other hand, we consider the case in its whole 
bearing with the rest of existence, then this abstract pos- 
sibility proves to be absolutely opposed to the reality. We- 
cannot at present do more than give a hasty glance at this; 
subject; it will, however, be enough to prove, that man 
neither occupies the highest position, nor can he be the only 
being endowed with reason. When we regard the developer 



BY THOUGHT AXD IMAGINATION. 53 

niGiit of the earth, we behold a succession of eras, in each of 
which new and more perfect beings have been developed, and 
we observe that the human race did not come into being before 
the last convulsion, or rather transformation of nature. It 
may be dangerous to wound the self-love of the human race 
by the supposition that it must one day make room for a more 
perfect order of beings. We will, therefore, rather recall to 
our remembrance that our entire solar system has developed 
itself in a series of natural periods similar to the earth, and 
that each planet must still submit to a succession of creative 
transformations ; consequently, we may infer that they have 
all had a succession of created beings, with such variations 
only as the different natural conditions of each must induce. 
Would it not be a strange assertion that neither the older 
planets, at the most remote distance from the sun, nor the 
younger and nearer ones, had any of them attained to such a 
degree of developement as is exhibited on our earth ? Though 
a slight colour of support might be given to the assertion, it 
never could bear a close investigation ; should we, however, 
on such grounds maintain that man ruled paramount through- 
out the wide expanse of the imiverse, we must go far beyond 
this. Our system is, indeed, but a small part of a far 
higher system, with which it has been developed under similar 
laws, only differing in the increased complication which the 
enormous difference in proportion of a system of systems 
must necessarily induce. The same fundamental idea of 
the globe and of man must be repeated in each, though 
borne out under different conditions ; and must we believe 
that on none of these planets, similar or dissimilar to our 
own globe, reason has been awakened to self-consciousness ? 
But we may not even rest with the impression of such a 
system of worlds ; it only forms part of a still higher one, 
and must we suppose that here also reason has not attained 
the developement of self-knowledge ? Thought never finds 
repose, but rises to higher and higher worlds ; and except on 
earth, can it recognize nothing but barren solitude where no 
reasoning being has ever penetrated ? No, it belongs rather 
to the nature of things, that reason should develope itself 
into self-consciousness, not only in one spot, but in every 
member of the system, although in different degrees. If we 
rightly weigh the imperfection of our knowledge, both as 
regards its accuracy, or its extent and completeness, we can 



54 THE COMPREHENSION OF NATUEE 

hardly believe tHat man lias yet reached the highest degree 
of developement. Associated with the most sublime enjoy, 
ment, when we have been ch\e to gain a footstep in know- 
ledge, w^e are conscious of the most ardent longing for a 
profounder insight, the possibility of which is dimly apparent 
before us. If we regard the whole of existence as a living 
revelation of Reason in time and space, we can conceive that 
the most varied degrees of developement may be found distri- 
buted through all time, and that some bodies are still spheres of 
vapour, others have reached fluidity ; while others have gained 
a solid nucleus, and so onwards to the highest point of develop- 
ment ; and then backwards again even to those bodies which 
are on the verge of final destruction. But even were it possible 
to maintain that self-conscious reason alone existed on earth, it 
still remains true, and is proved by the remains that have 
reached us of an earlier stage of developement, that there was 
an immeasurably long period of time before the creation of 
man ; is it possible, then, that during the whole of this long 
period there was not a single being capable of perceiving and 
apprehending his own existence ? Let every one search 
whether this idea can bear a sound investigation. 

It is now plain that he who is convinced by the proofs I 
have mentioned, that living beings are distributed through the 
whole of existence, will contemplate the stars with very diffe-^ 
rent thoughts and views, and have a far wider field for the 
scope of his imagination than he w^ho is ignorant of these 
secrets of nature. 

We have already said that the whole universe is subject to 
laws, and that these laws are guided by reason. Few will 
contradict this truth ; but when viewed from scientific ground 
it is displayed with greater force. Only imagine that he who 
from his study of the earth's movements has gained a know- 
ledge of some of those great laws of the world, which are as 
simple as they are necessary for its preservation, will then 
perceive that the vast masses of matter wandering through 
the regions of space, have imder the same law^s and forces 
become perfect spheres, have afterwards modified their forms, 
and are now kept in their appointed paths. He must pursue 
the application of this fundamental idea with close discrimi- 
nation, but also with enlarged views, and he will see at length 
that all which calculation has taught him is fulfilled. " That 
which the spirit promises, nature performs." Does he not 



I3Y THOUGHT AND I:MAGIXATI0N. OO 

feci that he is accepted as a participating link in the eternal 
principle of the universe ? 

He sees no inactive void in the remote distances between 
the planets. The space is filled by aether, and is penetrated 
by the attractive forces by which the whole universe is held 
together. The a3ther itself is an ocean, whose waves form 
light, that great connecting link which conveys messages from 
globe to globe, and from system to system. The better we 
understand these truths, the wider will be the view unfolded 
to us, and futm*ity promises to reveal still more secrets ; the 
wonders of the globe, unravelled by science, prove that we are 
not isolated beings, but that we are related to the whole 
universe; and with the same comprehensive grasp, though in 
a different direction, reveals the fundamental doctrine of 
universal attraction. The observant student is carried up- 
wards, penetrated and animated by the voice of nature ; and 
he himself, though possibly in the smallest degree, reacts on 
her. 

Let us imagine an observer of the stars whose imagination 
is stored ^vith all the ideas we have mentioned, and we must 
feel persuaded that the greatness, the life, the overflowing 
thought, — in short, the presence of Divinity must shine on 
his soul with the same light from heaven which in existence 
meets his eye. 

This example, though only one of many, ought to be 
sufficient to indicate, that when we resign our whole souls to 
that enjo}Taent which flows from the comprehension of nature, 
the more our minds are cultivated, so much the greater will 
be the pleasure we shall receive ; and this culture can only 
be attained by the diligent study of those results which have 
been obtained from scientific research. 



SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY 

IN TKEIH 

EELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 



1. — The Nature of Buperstition and Infidelity. 

It is universally considered tliat natural science has been 
most influential in tlie extirpation of superstition, and this is 
confirmed by the peculiar nature of the subject, and the history 
of the human mind. We also believe that infidelity is often 
caused by the study of natural science, but this can only 
arise from its abuse. It may appear superfluous to submit 
opinions so generally received to a fresh inquiry, if we have 
no reason to contradict them ; but a cursory glance at human 
nature proves, that there exists much disagreement as to 
their mode of application, and that this subject is rarely 
comprehended by the multitude as distinctly or clearly as it 
ought to be. 

Many people imagine that superstition is closely allied to 
faith, and, therefore, they fancy that the extirpation of the 
former may endanger the latter. We must, therefore, en- 
deavour to demonstrate, that superstition may be viewed on 
two sides, one of which has a casual, and, consequently, a 
dissoluble connection with true faith, while the other, on the 
contrary, is closely connected with the most fearful impiety. 
There are others who consider superstition as poetical, and 
who are therefore adverse to its destruction. We must 
remind them, however, of this fact, that, in the earliest ages 
of the human race, many objects of superstition were united, 
though not indispensably,* with poetical conceptions ; but that 
when superstition is completely developed, so far from realiz- 
ing, it is utterly opposed to a world of beauty. 

We have made use of the word superstition as a well 
known term, but going farther into the subject, we must 
determine its signification with greater accuracy, and we 





SUPEESTITIOX AND INFIDELITY. 57 

will at the same time protest against the objection, that 
superstition is now so completely exterminated in civilized 
society, that it is no longer worth while to discuss it. 

) Every one is able to distinguish between credulity and 
superstition. He who gives credit to false informations, 
which contain nothing peculiarly extravagant, is not accused 
of superstition, but is only considered credulous. Even 
should he believe the greatest improbabilities, namely, that 
there is a country in which the men are usually ten feet high, 
and that they live to the age of a thousand years, we might con- 
sider him ridiculously credulous, but we should not confound 
it with superstition. But he, on the other hand, who ima- 
gines that anything is effected in nature, except through 
nature's laws, is called a superstitious man. For instance, 
whoever believes that a sick animal may be ciu'ed by the 
recital over it of certain magical words, must undoubtedly 
imagine they possess a power which does not exist in common 
words. I will mention some more examples of a different 
kind. Many people imagine that a man who has been bitten 
by a dog, which at the time was in perfectly good health, will 
yet be seized with hydrophobia, if the same dog should 

' happen afterwards to be attacked by this illness, although by 
the laws of natm-e there is no connection between the two 
occm-rences. The idea that when thirteen people sit at table, 
it is either dangerous or that it predicts misfortune, presup- 
poses that a certain number will produce effects, or is in some 
way connected with powers which are supernatural. These 
ideas are considered superstitious, not because they admit 
what is contrary to nature, (for if that were the case, a man 
who believed that he could drink aquafortis with the same 
facility as brandy, would be thought superstitious,) but 
because they assume, although with an indistinct concep- 
tion of their own meaning, that nature can act in opposition 
to her owTi laws. It is not our purpose now to enumerate 
the different superstitions that exist; our object is to speak of 
the tendency there is to believe that something, called super- 
natural, interworks with the ordinary com'se of nature. This 
tendency and this superstitious manner of thinldng is often 
maintained by men who, from their education, have learnt to 
shim all cm-rent superstitious opinions. For instance, forty 
years ago, I was acquainted with a French emigrant, who 
woidd have been much offended if any one had accused him 



58 SUPEKSTITIOJ^r AND INFIDELITY IN THEIPw 

of a belief in ghosts, but who, nevertheless, imagined he was 
pursued by the Freemasons, and who believed that, although 
he was in Copenhagen, the Freemasons, living in London, 
possessed an influence over his mind, and caused him nightly 
cramps by means of animal magnetism. I am aware that 
there are some scientific men w^ho admit these kindred in- 
fluences, and that some even believe that animal magnetism, 
like light, electricity, and the magnetism of the earth, can . 
spread its efiects into distant space ; but the French emigrant, 
as is the case with many other magnetizers, believed in a 
supernatural agency. Should it even be ever discovered that, 
in accordance with natural law^s, the influence of the will on 
the nervous system may be extended through distant space, 
still those who believed that it was the eflect of supernatural 
powers would be considered superstitious. This idea ought 
to be viewed in the same light as if, by the aid of enchant- 
ment, we could transmit our thoughts instantaneously to our 
distant friends. The discovery even of the electric telegraph 
cannot make this rationally possible. Another Frenchman 
expressed it as his opinion, that it was only by the aid of the 
Freemasons that Napoleon was able to accomplish so much. 
In the first instance it w^as believed that a physical eflect was 
produced by supernatural means; in the last, that the natural 
working of a mind which possessed great capabilities in itself, , 
proceeded from the united influence of extraneous forces, 
and not from the natm^al laws of the mind. If this may not 
be denominated superstition, its close relationship to it can- 
not be denied. 

There are also certain opinions seen from another point of 
view, which we must consider superstitious, though they are 
not conceived in that spirit. I formerly knew some excellent, 
people living in a small and remote town, who were never 
troubled by doubts of any sort, and who therefore did not 
venture to deny the existence of ghosts, which were generally 
believed in by those around them, but they were not afraid of 
them, since they believed they could do no evil without the 
wdll of God. But the will of God is the expression in 
religion for the eternal laws of existence, therefore with 
their unscientific notions they confounded the supernatural 
and the natural. At the same time, I knew a man, who 
frequently and loudly proclaimed his scepticism in religious 
matters, and yet feared to go by night across a churchyard, 



DELATION TO IS'ATURAL SCIENCE. 59 

or to pass a place of execution. Was he not an example of a 
superstitious mind ? 

That we may understand better the meaning of what I 
ihave said, and not misconstrue the different expressions I 
have used, we must investigate the character of the laws of 
nature more closely. Although we are willing to confess 
that our knowledge of natural science must fall far short of 
the task it has to perform, it is still sufficient to show us 
that the laws of nature are the eternal laws of reason ; that 
to know them is to know the eternal connection of reason 
with nature ; in short, to know that reason w^hich pervades 
and rules the whole of the material as well as the spiritual 
part of our existence. Natural science is in perfect harmony 
with rehgion, which teaches that everything has been brought 
forth, and is now being brought forth and governed by the 
divine will. It is therefore contrary to reason as well as to 
the will of God to designate anything in the course of nature 
supernatural. I am aware that many believe that the Creator 
may now and then deem it necessary to deviate from the 
laws of nature : but if it was a real exception to the course of 
reason, this would presuppose a want of reason in Him who 
is all-perfect wisdom; on the other hand, should the ex- 
ception be only apparent, and the laws of nature have 
really been followed, we need then only number this excep- 
tion among the countless wonders which lie beyond the 
Kmits of our understandings; it T\^ould serve to humble our 
pride, but not to justify our inclination to believe in the 
supernatural. Superstition is therefore a tendency to believe 
in that which is contrary to reason; and such a tendency 
can only exist unkno\\Ti to itself: for he who can pro- 
nounce that superstition inclines the mind to believe what is 
absurd, will undoubtedly abhor it. There is no faith in 
superstition, for faith must openly proclaim itself; but super- 
stition is only a confused idea, whose real existence cannot 
be clearly understood without destroying itself. 

It may be considered impossible that a tendency to what 
is contrary to reason should exist, and that even if it were 
the case, reason would render it ineffectual ; but I answer, 
that though the human mind is not naturally inclined to 
abhor reason, it is neither incredible nor contrary to expe- 
rience, that this shoidd occur as a perversion of the faculties. 
We shaU exemplify this in the course of our investigation. 
We can easily conceive that reason has not always sufficed to 



60 SIJPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 



1 



oppose this tendency, when we remember how many people 
are only imperfectly conscious of their own thoughts, and are 
far from entirely and completely comprehending them ; that 
their ideas often float befo:*'e them in such a scattered con- 
dition, that thoughts which ought reciprocally to enHghten 
and reconcile one another, seldom meet. 

Let us imagine a man whose ideas of nature are limited to 
what he perceives through his senses ; not only does the 
spiritual appear supernatural, but so likewise do all those 
objects of the material world which he cannot connect in 
his mind with what is usual to him ; therefore the starry 
firmament appears to him supernatural, and in his ignorance 
of the laws which govern it, he ascribes to it the most 
unnatural influence in human aflairs. A still higher deve- 
loped idea may be united with similar errors, which essen- 
tially belong to the same class. Those belong to this class, 
whose general conceptions of nature are so embarrassed by 
considering in what manner the material differs from the 
spiritual, that they are not conscious of the all- comprehensive 
unity of the laws of reason. Those who have so limited a 
conception of nature, may possibly recognize the superna- 
tural, and not be aware of the unreasonableness of their ideas, 
but they unconsciously live at variance with existence, which 
must be felt whenever there is any exercise of thought ; and 
if their mental efibrts do not enable them to overcome their 
difficulties, they are left in a melancholy, soul-depressing 
feeling of confusion and alienation from eternal light. 

This state might often degenerate with many people, par- 
ticularly in the dark ages of the world, to the lowest depths 
of spiritual darkness, and might in its consequences lead to an 
abhorrence of reason and to impiety. Perhaps this may appear 
at first an exaggerated application of principles, and not jus- 
tified by the reality; if this were really the case, I should 
object to such strong expressions, and regret that I should 
have made use of them, but I trust that on a closer investi- 
gation of the subject they will be found justifiable. 

Infidelity is a state of degeneracy exactly opposed to 
superstition. It consists in a tendency to reject all those 
immediate truths which do not rest upon the impressions of 
the senses, and to found its entire faith on these, and on the 
decision of the logical understanding. Superstition and in- 
fidelity are developed in the human race in that intimate 
alliance, in which extremes necessarily show themselves, 



HELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 61 

which continually produce each other; vre must therefore 
glance at their origin and their mode of developement. 

2. — T/ie origm of Superstition and Infidelity, and their mode- 
of developement. 

Mankind in its infancy learns, like the individual man, by 
instinctive intuition. The period of childhood, where the 
power of thought is but slightly developed, and where the 
form which is given by this faculty to the impressions of 
sense is still very imperfect, comprises a large portion of the 
time allotted by nature to the developement of man. The 
knowledge of himself which he then acquires, has an im- 
mense influence in his comprehension of the world. He 
embodies all his feelings, his desires, his fancies, into the 
sensible world, and imagines that everything around him is. 
living, feeling, and desu'ing as he is. The inner world, whick 
man thus creates for himself, is a world of poetry, very diffe- 
rent from what he afterwards acquires from his thoughts ; but 
since the same active power which we are conscious of in our 
thoughts, pervades and forms all our feelings, so this childish 
comprehension of the world is in peculiar harmony with that 
superior intelligence by which all nature is governed; and 
through it, with that character of reason, so comprehensible 
to our inner sense, which forms the essence of beauty, and 
which never ceases to charm us. If poetry could be the pre- 
vailing sentiment in this world, the life of man would be 
one harmonious whole, but his comprehension of the world 
would be vague and di'eamy. He would not be fully conscious 
of the rational connexion of all things in the w^orld, that reve- 
lation of the divine reason in existence : man must be led 
through innumerable struggles to the point where the uniou 
of all our capabilities and powers of comprehension will be 
evident, and Avhere thought and poetry will no longer be 
opposed. The contrivance of our whole existence is arranged 
in accordance with this design. 

Nature does not permit man to bury himself in the world 
of poetr}', and he is prevented from doing so by exterior 
influences; objects obtrude themselves which require his con- 
stant consideration. Irresistible impressions and thoughts 
appear in prominent distinctness, and oblige him to look 
at things in a new manner. This induces two opposite sen- 
sations, either joy at the new idea that is disclosed to him. 



62 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

or discontent at the encroachment which has been made into 
his habitual view of the world. One of these two feehngs 
will predominate, according to the nature of the new idea, 
or to the peculiar disposition of each individual. We shall 
explain this by some examples: — The course of the seasons 
exercises, even in the most favourably situated countries, an 
immense influence upon the condition, of man ; in the warmer 
regions of the earth, it is important for him to know at what 
period the hot weather will succeed the rainy season, or when 
the drought which always terminates the hot weather, will 
be followed by the fruitful rains ; and in the colder regions it 
is perhaps still more necessary that he should be acquainted 
with the course of the seasons. By successive observations 
of the heavens, the learned and their immediate pupils, 
are acquainted with the laws by which the seasons may be 
predicted, and the common people believe that these highly 
gifted men are in communication with the heavenly powers, 
and are benefactors to the human race. By their learning 
it is possible to make those arrangements which the predic- 
tions of the seasons require, such as agriculture, meetings 
for religious ceremonies, great campaigns, &c. &c. The mul- 
titude will not indeed be roused by these means to any great 
mental thought, but among the initiated, where knowledge 
is nurtured and preserved, it must soon be evident that the 
ideas entertained by the people, that the stars are independent 
gods, to whom we are indebted for all the benefits of the 
year, do not harmonize with those laws by which the events 
in nature are governed. In accordance with human nature, 
two opposite prejudices are created. Some entertain doubts 
concerning the opinions of the people in general, and also 
the truths which are contained, though mingled with gross 
errors, in a faith whose principle is really pure, while others 
fear to reason away the whole divinity of things. During the 
early developement of these opinions, neither of them will have 
a decided predominance, but the prevailing idea will oscillate 
backwards and forwards between the two extremes, and man 
will feel that he cannot fathom its depth. But the same ten- 
dencies develope themselves gradually, and more especially 
so the greater be the number of those who attain, although 
in a very superficial manner, some knowledge concerning the 
laws of the heavenly bodies ; and this will particularly 
happen, when it is discovered that phenomena of the heavens, 
which people regarded with terror, appear as the innocent 



DELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 63 

consequences of nature's laws. We can conceive the hoiTor 
wiiich would be felt if people imagined, at every solar eclipse, 
a monstrous dragon was going to swallow the sun; it would 
be much as if the powers of darkness threatened to swallow 
up the light; and, even after this prejudice was discarded, 
thev would continue to regard an eclipse with fearful fore- 
bodings. But if it became generally known, that the moon, 
in her appointed path, intervenes for a short space of time 
between the earth and the sun, and that this may be calcu- 
lated beforehand, it would cause a great mental excitement; 
and the delight of seeing their former fears vanish before 
those powers of nature which were previously so much 
dreaded, would be universal. There must be another and a 
still greater pleasm-e reserved for those who, being more 
enlightened, behold in it a grand exemplification of the 
power we possess to comprehend in part the guiding hand of 
nature. 

But when this fear of one natural phenomenon was acknow- 
leged to be groundless, people were induced to ask them- 
selves, whether they were not equally mistaken in many 
other instances of a similar nature; and, indeed, many peo- 
ple did not stop at the mere question. Whatever importance 
may attach to this instance, and whatever ideas it may 
awaken, yet in itself it could exert no very extensive influence, 
but is only one example taken from an endless number of 
examples. Man is constantly roused to reflection by sur- 
rounding influences; and whenever he discovers in them a 
cause or a harmony, he is placed in direct opposition to the 
former world of his imagination; having progressed so far, 
the most independent and active minds will not stop at the 
I'ejection of those opinions which are undoubtedly false, but 
will rather feel inclined to reject all which strikingly resemble 
them ; but most of those who have adopted these new ideas, 
are too easily carried away to such an extravagant degree of 
rejection, that they are even led to deny truths, which have 
been mixed up with these erroneous opinions. On the other 
hand, there are people who cannot easily tear themselves 
from their old ideas; some from an earnest belief in those 
truths which are now denied; others, and the greater portion 
of those whose faith is less vivid, because by the dulness of 
their intellect they are deadened to all innovations. Enlight- 
ened men, delighted with their insight into the new world of 



64 SITPEESTITIOK AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

thought, are impatient at any resistance, whose exclusive 
origin they attribute to the mental weakness of their oppo- 
nents; whilst the adherents of the old system are filled with 
fear and animosity, when they behold that view of the 
world attacked, with which their knowledge of God has 
arisen. This struggle between two antagonistic prejudices 
does not proceed without interruption; sometimes the power 
of thought roused by new discoveries preponderates, some- 
times a period of rest prevails, in which there is leisure to 
narrow the boundaries which have extended too far, owing to 
too great mental excitement; but there will always exist some 
men, who will feel with that true inward modesty, originating 
in a noble depth of character, that there are many questions 
between the disputing parties, which cannot at once be 
answered with a perfect conviction of their truth. They are, 
therefore, content to appropriate from both parties, w^hatever 
appears to them to be the most certainly true ; on one side 
the convictions to which they are led by an inherent sense of 
their truth, although they have not been yet sufficiently 
explained by reason ; on the other side, those truths which 
have been perfectly proved by reason, even although some 
differences appear to prevail between them and the old ideas. 
Those who are able to act in this manner, well know that 
where there is a contradiction the whole truth cannot exist, 
but they also know that the possession of the whole truth is 
out of our power, and that we shall never reach truth by 
an untimely suppression of doubt. 

This shortly delineated course of developement pervades 
the whole history of man, and only differs in different periods 
and regions of the world. We shall now endeavour to re- 
present the progress of superstition at the time when its 
power was most extensively spread over the world. Men 
w^ere obliged gradually to receive more and more of that 
knowledge which philosophers were daily acquiring ; but with 
most people this remained no more than a simple gift, and 
exactly that which to the more highly endowed was the most 
valuable, was least fitted to the views of the uneducated 
multitude. At the same time, however, men of even coarser 
understandings were led by these gleams of higher thoughts to a 
more varied course of ideas. But still more various is the effect 
obtained from those fruits of thought which have been pouring 
in upon mankind, as the constantly increasing inheritance of 



TcELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 65 

centuries ; and which is forced upon us in the daily routine 
of a life, whose numerous arrangements exact a greater con- 
sideration in each successive generation of man. But thought, 
which is here awakened, is not sufficiently worked out by the 
multitude so as to operate freely, and in correspondence with 
its own nature. Among the uneducated classes it remains 
subject to the government of the imagination, and its effect 
is, as far as possible, confined within the limits of her 
dominion ; they w^ish, as it were, to comprehend things by 
the power of the imagination, and from this crude material to 
contrive a view of the world wdiich becomes more confused 
and contradictory the further it is developed. During this 
state of things a strange confusion arises from the creations of 
the old poetical world, and the mass of knowledge which 
has since been acquired. We should be very much de- 
ceived if we expected to see this knowdedge conspicuously 
prominent in the poetical works of such a period ; for here 
we only behold what the sense of beauty was able to select 
and to transform. In historical works also w^hich are occupied 
with great events, we meet with few indications of super- 
sition ; but we may in part become acquainted wath it in the 
records of daily life. The life of the Eomans was strongly 
imbued with it, even in its most refined age; the Middle 
Ages however claim a closer attention. 

I . 

!i 3. — The Middle Ages an example of a period of Superstition, 

At different periods superstition has reached a certain height, 
which may be better defined from the collected circumstances 
of the times, though it would be tedious to mention each 
period separately. The Middle Ages will be the most instruc- 
tive to us, and more especially so, because superstition was 
then mingled Avith Christianity, whose doctrine, when purely 
comprehended by man, is so exalted and so glorious, that 
superstition is displayed in opposition to it in all its darkest 
folly. At the same time that a religion was recognised which 
teaches that the universe is governed by a Divine will, imagi- 
nation peopled it wdth evil spirits, who in various degrees 
possessed a supernatural power. They were, indeed, subject 
to the Eternal will, — this vfas an undisputed doctrine ; but 
^ coarser minds were imbued w^ith gloomy imaginations, which 
[| were at variance with the clear light of truth, and which more 



66 SUPERSTITION AI^D INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

than could be believed, goyeroed life and its actions. There 
cannot be a better example of the folly of superstition, than 
the eagerness with which so many Christians, during a suc- 
cession of centuries, sought the assistance of men, from whom 
they themselves believed they could only receive support by 
diabolical arts. It is the most melancholy delusion to seek 
assistance from the devil, while we at the same time believe 
in God : it might indeed be denominated the most ridiculous 
madness. We do not allude merely to individual examples, 
but to an opinion which was daily expressed for more than 
a century, in all Christian countries; but the extreme of this 
delusion is the idea of selling ourselves to the devil, by w^hich, 
for the transitory enjoyments of a limited life, we renounce 
eternal happiness, and condemn ourselves to everlasting 
punishment. What a sacrifice at once to folly and impiety, 
to impiety and folly ! If to the expressive testimony of 
history, the false objection is advanced that such impiety 
could not have been common in the Middle Ages, w^hen 
religion was so highly venerated, I shall reply, that an im- 
partial view of the religious practices of that period will 
rather prove that even these were full of superstition. The 
God who was worshipped was indeed the same whom 
Christ had proclaimed, but the conceptions concerning him 
in those days were totally different; they considered him 
a powerful sovereign, and not a spirit to whom we should 
pray in spirit and in truth. The single exceptions that 
existed deviated so entirely from the general practice, that 
they cannot be considered of any value. It w^as the com- 
mon opinion that outrages, robbery, and murder might be 
expiated by gifts, which were not so frequently offered to 
the Almighty as to persons who, it was believed, had great 
influence with him, namely, to the mother of his Son, to a 
legion of saints, and to a still greater band of priests ; these 
influential people were overwhelmed with gifts, and the ser- 
vants of the church sold indidgences. I shall certainly be 
accused of repeating the worn-out lauguage of the eighteenth 
century, but it is by no means my intention to w^rite anything 
new, but that which is considered the truth, and which many 
are too glad to forget. I shall be told that this opinion con- 
cerning the Middle Ages has been so often condemned, and in 
such strong terms, that it should not be brought forward again. 
I am aware of these condemnatory judgments, but they no 



RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 67 

longer alarm me, since I have sought to become acquainted 
with the Middle Ages through themselves, and not from the 
representations of conflicting parties. We should not on 
this account let ourselves be deceived by supposing that we 
are able to attribute the errors of the dark ages to a more 
exalted view of things. Profound truths are frequently dis- 
covered at the foundation of the errors of all ages ; but we 
must endeavour to see how men actually thought in those 
days : it is only thus that we shall obtain a true idea of 
their condition. 

It is of course imderstood that in the foregoing reflections 
our attention has been exclusively turned towards the dark 
side of the Middle Ages ; but after this has been conceded, 
we must remember that error has at no period so entirely 
prevailed, that truth and \irtue have not likewise exercised a 
powerful influence. What I intended to prove, and what I 
believe for certain is, that superstition has exercised a far 
greater influence upon the life and the opinions of the Middle 
Ages than most of the modern delineations of those times would 
allow us to suppose; and that, in proportion as it gained 
power, it displayed its folly and its impiety. It is hardly 
necessary to remark that none of these errors can be attri- 
buted to the influence of true religion ; but we here behold 
one of the numerous examples which shew us that religion 
may be comprehended in a very difierent manner, according 
to the variety of knowledge, and the different development 
of the faculties of men. Mankind must be educated to arrive 
at a true understanding of things; and this education, though 
it has indeed advanced step by step, appears to be yet very 
distant from its completion. 

4. — The injurious effects which Superstition exercises on all the 
concerns of Life. 

Superstition is not only at war with religion, but it likewise 
meddles with all the concerns of life. To comprehend this 
fully, we must transport ourselves into a period when super- 
stition prevailed. If there was an eclipse of the sun or the 
moon, it was feared it might betoken misfortune, and this 
sort of apprehension lasted for many centuries, indeed more 
than a thousand years after science had discovered the true 
cause of eclipses. When a comet was seen, the terror was still 

F 2 



68 SUPEESTITIOX AND INFIDELITY IN THEIH 

greater ; on tlie appearance of one, even so late as the fifteenth 
century, all the church bells were rung by command of the 
Pope. In great undertakings; , astrologers were consulted, 
and people submitted to their decision. Even before being 
bled, or taking physic, or having one's hair cut, it was con- 
sidered necessary to consult the stars. The signs, which were 
interpreted by figures, and which originated entirely from 
arbitrary determinations, created a fear that the world vrould 
come to an end in the year 1000, the influence of which ex- 
tended over the whole of Christianity. Great confusion 
often arose from the blind confidence which was placed in 
prophecy ; in cases of sickness people sought advice from men 
and women to whom a supernatural knowledge was attri- 
buted, and they som.etimes received useless, but more 
frequently injurious advice. When human beings or cattle 
were attacked by illness or any other misfortune, the influ- 
ential cause of everything was ascribed to wicked men, or 
other evil beings, and consequently the fear of mysterious 
agencies was added to their other misfortunes. Even the 
passing vicissitudes in the dispositions of men, for instance, 
love, and its transformation into aversion, were frequently 
ascribed to magic, and supernatural assistance, and often 
horrible magical potions were sought to ward it away. Dark- 
ness was filled with horrors ; in woods and in mountains, 
near churches, in deserts, in deserted rooms, there dwelt 
magicians, fairies, mountain spirits, and ghosts. Hobgoblins 
wandered through the streets ; and even within the dwellings, 
evil spirits exchanged innocent children in the cradle. I have 
naturally only been able to collect some few examples, but if 
we turned our attention more to the subject, we should soon 
perceive what a powerful influence it must have exercised. 
I quite allow that all these things have been gathered together 
here in a manner which would never occur in real life. 
Yet those were not few who, following their natural dispo- 
sitions, more especially resigned themselves to such ideas, 
and to them existence must have been a species of torture. 
With most people these ideas would be overpowered and 
modified by the numerous and far stronger impressions they 
received from real life surrounding them ; and therefore they 
exercised only an occasional influence over some people, and 
with others hardly any at all. But on the whole, they vrere 
much more mixed up with the concerns of life in those days 



KELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 6D 

than appears in the beautiful poetical features with which 
niany authors draw a picture of the middle ages. It is there- 
fore certain that formerly superstition pervaded the life of 
man with a restlessness, a disturbance, and often with a 
species of terror, with which in these days we are unacquainted, 
although we have not entirely thrown off its disgraceful 
yoke. 

5. — On the supposed Poetry of Superstition, 

I must now present you with another form of superstition, 
v>-hich induces many cultivated minds to cherish it as a 
favoured child of their imagination ; they say it is poetical, 
and lament that a closer acquaintance with the laws of 
nature should make us prosaic. A striking w^ant of reverence 
for truth and reality lies concealed behind this accusation, 
which we shall not at present attend to, but content ourselves 
with sohing the misunderstanding upon which this opinion is 
founded. It is not the belief in the existence of supernatural 
beings in the reality of every-day life, which makes these 
beings poetical ; but they are indebted for whatever poetical 
value and importance they possess, to the way in which they 
have been employed by one endowed with a powerful imagi- 
nation, to present to our inner perception beautiful images of 
a higher existence. The poet is* satisfied if these beings 
are realized in our imaginations while we are imbibing his 
ideas, or mentally reflecting upon them. He must breathe 
such real life into the creations of his fancy, that they may be 
able to work upon our imaginations ; and our powers of 
conception must be equally vivid to re-create the ideas 
painted by the poet. How. many are there among the thou- 
sands who have been enchanted with the Macbeth or Hamlet 
of Shakspeare, who have believed in the reality of witches 
or ghosts ? Experience and science teach us that, in order 
to enter with delight into the representation of the super- 
natural in poetry, our belief in it must be aroused and sus- 
tained during the period of our enjoyment, but it would be 
absurd to desire a different kind of reality. 

I knov>r that celebrated poets have introduced characters 
into their writings who are placed in a ridiculous light 
because they would not believe in supernatural beings ; but 
where such a representation is successful, it can only be 



70 SUPEHSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

directed against those who would banish the supernatural 
entirely out of the world of Poetry, because they considered 
it superstitious, confounding poetical with prosaic Reality. 
So far as the poet differs from this opinion, he falls into a 
prosaic error which has undeniably misled many a man of 
genius. There was a time when, both in Germany and Den- 
mark, it was considered by many intellectual and highly cul- 
tivated men, that Religion and Poetry would be advanced by 
the restoration of Superstition. This attempt received 
additional vigour and life, inasmuch as it appeared in oppo- 
sition to the very prosaic turn of thought which at that time 
prevailed. These times are now gone by ; but those mental 
powers which were frequently employed in the contest for 
superstition, have not only left behind them traces, in the 
influence they still exert over many minds, but the struggle 
itself is still often renewed, while the writings of those days 
are preserved, which will always be popular from their poeti- 
cal merits. It were best to cite a great example : — the poet 
Tieck belonged, in his youth, to that party who powerfully 
attacked the prosaic tendencies of the day ; and he assailed 
them with a talent and wit which will always find admirers ; 
but we cannot deny that he resigned himself so completely 
to this object, that he was led to transgress the boundaries of 
truth. In some of his writings we trace an endeavour to set 
reason at naught, particularly in his tales and traditions, where 
he mixes up old fables with every-day life ; and they are so 
vividly described^ that the supernatural acquires a reality 
which it does not possess in poetry. 

When we read, or rather listen to, the story of the " Fair 
Egbert," or the '' Venus' Hill and the Fairies," as related to 
us in the form of popular legends, which are completely 
exempt from any intellectual developement, our minds are 
carried back to a mental condition corresponding to the 
legendary days of yore, where we are not so forcibly struck 
by the contradictions in the story, and the immense contrast 
the substance of it presents with the whole of existence. 
But as soon as we proceed to examine the facts more in 
detail, and endeavour to harmonize them with a reality with 
with which we are familiar, the contradictions become more 
apparent, even although the great beauties of the poem 
prevent us from immediately accounting for them. Such a 
poem in its totality impresses one with the idea that the 



DELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 71 

world is governed by the powers of darkness, and Man is its 
involuntary plaything ; and while we resign ourselves to this 
impression, an indescribable terror seizes us, and it appears as 
dismal, looking back upon it, as if we had been imprisoned in a 
world of delusions where the threatened existence of man 
received no ray of light from the divine supremacy of reason. 
It is no justification of this kind of poetry, to say that the 
author wTote with the intention of producing this feeling of 
terror, and that he has succeeded, with as much talent as art. 
As a poet, he is bound to transport us into the world of the 
Beautiful : this certainly does not prevent us experiencing 
terror, but it will not suffer the powers of Darkness to overrule 
the light. Contending for the erroneous notion that poetry 
should be subservient to objects, even beyond its own proper 
sphere, people have often been inclined to allow it a degree of 
license, and to forget that it does not act in its true spirit if 
limited to particular forms of the Beautiful, but that there 
exists a world of beauty whose laws dare not be transgressed. 
For when poetry follows in the steps of beauty, she at once 
serves the cause of Religion, Morality, and Society, which all 
derive their character from the same source, and comes into 
harmony with Truth, as it is apprehended through our senses and 
our intellects. I have been obliged to transgress my limits, 
because I have observed how many old prejudices still remain, 
which are in opposition to the true light of natm^e. Let us 
warn those who think that it is a proof of a highly cultivated 
mind to bring to light remains of former times, that in reality 
they are only stirring up the dregs of a fermentation which was 
excited in a good cause, but has long since passed away. 

We are frequently astonished that so many clever men 
should have seriously lamented the disappearance of Super- 
stition, and wished to restore it to its former importance ; but 
this wish is never seriously entertained, either among those 
who by inclination, lead, or follow, in the cause. It may be 
truly said, that they only imagine that they wish it, and that 
their exertions, though half unconscious to themselves, serve 
only to increase the dominion of falsehood and fictitious beings. 

It is not my intention, besides, to deny that Science de- 
stroys some forms of Superstition, in such a way, that they can 
only be employed in the poetry of the present day under 
peculiar circumstances. For instance, it is a much more 
poetical idea, at least according to the notions w^e have hitherto 



72 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN TIIEIS 

entertained, to imagine that a Dragon lies in wait to devour 
the sun, which we can prevent by prayers and sacrifices, than 
to know that the moon passes between us and the sun. But 
who would be so foolish as to wish to renounce such a great 
and productive Truth, in support of an erroneous idea." I am 
aware that many have been led astray by the confusion that 
has arisen between the words poetical and prosaical. The 
word prosaic was originally meant to denote that kind of 
speech wdiicli is distinguished from verse, but afterwards, it 
was as frequently employed to signify whatever was inimical 
to a poetical feeling ; and thus used, it justly denotes what is 
low and soulless. But latterly, it has been applied in a very 
unreasonable and erroneous manner, to whatever is considered 
unpoetical ; whence the most profound knowledge and learn- 
ing is reckoned prosaical. Truth and Eeality are often 
treated as prosaic ideas, which should yield their place to 
poetry. People^ who use this language are deceived by a 
false notion they entertain, that every conception of the 
spiritual nature of existence, which meets with a suitable ex- 
pression in poetry, should belong exclusively to it ; and whilst 
they cannot deny that the loftiest ideas are often met with in 
science, and most beautifully expressed, they fall into the 
mistaken notion that this is poetry ; in the same way as we 
hear very enthusiastic Freemasons explain all morality as 
Freemasonry, and consider all good men Freemasons. A 
distinguished German author (Friederich Schlegel) who contri- 
buted much in his time to this confusion of ideas, asserted in 
exactly this spirit, that Spinoza was poetical. No ; Truth and 
Reality are in themselves, neither poetical nor prosaical ; the 
highest soarings of the spirit belong exclusively neither to 
poetry or prose, but are common property ; and to reserve 
the title of poetry for the sanctuary of the mind, is an inju- 
rious abuse of language. 

Therefore Natural Science is not to blame, if she destroys 
many of the materials which were formerly employed by 
poets ; indeed we do not hesitate to add, that she destroys 
many other errors which are incorporated into poetry, but 
which cannot be styled superstition ; therefore a modern poet 
would either never or seldom make use of representations 
such as " the four corners of the world," " the foundations of 
the earth," " the firmament of the heavens," or many other 
similar to these, because such false descriptions do not repre- 



RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. i3 

sent what is correct ; which is not the case with many other 
images, namely, the rising and setting of the sun, &c., kc. 
But even if poetry did not receive a complete compensation 
for such losses, it would still be very unreasonable to com- 
plain ; for the principal point still remains ; namely, that our 
spiritual existence is raised and ennobled by the knowled<;e 
which destroys these errors. Moreover, such losses will be 
of trifling importance to the true poet ; but injurious to 
those who make a profession of poetry, and who imagine 
they have given a poetical form to an insignificant idea, 
by clothing it in the magnificent ancient dress of past days. 
There are many who imagine that they speak in a grand 
style, when they assert that science offers but an insignificant 
compensation to such poetical views ; but I answer in reply, 
that whoever speaks in this manner, owns that he derives no 
intellectual pleasure from a deeper knowledge of the laws of 
nature, and that therefore, the power we possess of beholding 
with such w^onderful clearness the mechanism of the globe, 
and-foreseeing the cosmical relations of distant centuries, is of 
no interest to him. It may be told to such as these, that it 
is their owm stupidity which prevents them experiencing the 
delight of such knowledge, although they may boast of con- 
siderable talents of a different description : they are either 
excluded by natm-e, or more probably by their own fault, 
from participating in a pleasure which always increases in 
its intensity. 

Since the greatness of science is sufficiently attested in 
itself, we have as yet only affirmed that through communica- 
tion of insight, and not by anything she can actually bestow, 
she offers the poetical world an ample compensation for all 
she has deprived her of; but we must now also point out 
that Science bestows a real compensation for what she has 
destroyed in the poetical world. Poetry has long since re- 
ceived some of this compensation; for example, in the sphe- 
rical form of the earth, to the knowledge of which the 
learning of the ancients had already led; this must afford a 
much greater pleasure to our reason, and to our sense of the 
Beautiful, than the idea which represents the earth flat, 
square, or in the form of a disk. Poetry has occasionally 
made use of such great truths as the motion of the earth 
roimd the sun, the planets viewed as habitable globes, and 
the fixed stars considered as distant suns, and centres of 



74 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

light and heat to other undscovered inhabited globes. Does 
not the idea of a world moving freely in space, supported 
by invisible powers, and wandering far into eternity, amply 
compensate for the idea of the firm foundation of the heavens ? 
and is not the view into the endless variety of worlds re- 
plete with life and thought, an ample exchange for the fixed 
vault of heaven? The poetical imagination has not cer- 
tainly made use of the new ideas nearly so frequently as 
of the old ones, but the constantly progressing race of man 
has a long futurity before it. By means of science, the earth 
relates its own history of distant times which long preceded 
the existence of man ; and this has not been entirely excluded 
from poetry, although but sparingly employed. But the 
theory of the develop ement of the globe yields us annually 
fresh materials; it tells us of a time when the earth was 
enveloped by a sea of a high temperature, of the first islands 
which arose in this sea, and the progressive formation of 
islands, of the dumb creatures and the flowerless shrubs upon 
this young earth, which was enlivened by no sound, and em- 
bellished by no variety of colours ; it shows how, by a series 
of developments, large tracts of land were formed, and 
already begins to mark out their boundaries. It also displays 
to us the progressive developement of the animal and vege- 
table kingdoms, and shows us the wonderful forms which 
were successively created and became extinct, in constant 
preparation for new creations. Many discoveries of less 
scientific importance have also been received in the world of 
poetry ; for example, the magnet, gunpowder, spots on the 
sun, the borrowed light of the moon, the velocity of light, 
the lightning conductor, the respiration of plants, the animal- 
cules in w^ater, the fermentation of wine, &;c. &c. The rela- 
tion in which man stands as a discoverer of the secrets of 
nature, to all natural objects, to the whole human race, and 
to himself, has been but sparingly employed. Would it not 
be worthy of the poet, to represent the state of that man's 
mind who made the first scientific use of the telescope, and 
by its means discovered the moon belonging to a distant 
planet, and the mountains in our own moon ? Can anything 
be more delightful to the poet than to reflect upon this man's 
enlarged and clear insight into the wide domain of existence, 
his consciousness of having enriched the human race with a 
great increase of knowledge, and his conviction that he has 



RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 75 

prepared the certain downfall of astrology, and the numerous 
errors ^Yhich are entertained concerning the heavenly bodies? 
Is it not well worth the trouble to represent to men, the 
inward delight which is felt by one who succeeds in unveiling 
the great secrets of nature, and who foresees what good 
effects will be produced to the human race by his endeavours? 
Each of the greater and comprehensive discoveries would 
display something similar, although not visible to all in an 
equal degree; but even the most prominent have been seldom 
productive of poetical conceptions. It is, for instance, 
remarkable, that the discovery of the electrical nature of the 
atmosphere during a storm, has never inspired the poet with 
a desire to represent it. The discovery was the fruit of scien- 
tific reflection, but it was proclaimed to the world by an heroic 
act, for the discoverer conducted the electric fire from a 
cloud by means which endangered his own life. He w^as 
assisted by his youthful son : we can conceive the mental 
excitement the father must have undergone during the expe- 
riment, the innocent or the heroic sympathy of the son, and 
the sensation of triumphant joy when it was concluded. As 
far as concerns the sympathy of the son, the poet is free to 
choose whether he will suppose the father has not at all con- 
sidered the danger of his son, or has communicated it to him 
but to prove him, and has concealed the precautions which he 
has taken for his security, whilst he must necessarily expose 
himself to danger. We may further imagine the repeated 
outcry of prejudice against the lightning-conductor, but at the 
same time its disappearance when experience had proved the full 
merits of the discovery. I am here reminded of an incident 
in real life, which no poet's invention could have surpassed. 
There was a church-tower in Sienna which had often been 
injured by lightning ; the church overseers provided it with a 
lightning-conductor, against which the slaves of superstition 
protested, and called it the heretical stake ; a storm arose, the 
lightning struck the tower — crowds flocked to see whether 
the church had been spared, and, behold! the conductor so 
completely verified its power, that even a spider's web upon 
it remained uninjured. 

It is natural that he who has always lived in the atmo- 
sphere of obsolete ideas, will be little compensated by the 
new ones ; and he will still less allow that this compensation 
is immense, and far outbalances his loss. Important indivi- 



76 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

dual examples may indeed prepare the mind for such a con- 
viction, but cannot accomplish it; it can only gradually 
become general, and at length conquer, when the knowledge 
of science is so increased, that it not only belongs to the 
understanding, but likewise cultivates the powers of the ima- 
gination. It is only by means of such a mental develop- 
ment that a new poetical w^orld will be unfolded in opposition 
to the old one, in a mental sense perhaps no less important 
than the discovery of the New World was to the so-called 
Old World. This development will not fail in exercising a 
legitimate, and certainly a powerful, influence on the use we 
make of the ancient poetical world. Among other things, a 
more delicate perception will be formed of the harmony of 
reason, which, however much it may be hidden from the eye 
of the multitude, must exist in the widest range of true 
poetry, and thus that license which, the thoughtless multi- 
tude often mistakes for originality, will more and more lose 
its admirers. 

6. — T?te Effects of Infidelity, 

We have been a long time considering the ejBPects of super- 
stition, and the false tendency of the mind which favours it. 
It will not be necessary to dwell so long on the effects of 
infidelity, although they are extremely injurious ; but since it 
origmates from the spirit of inquiry, it carries with it the 
germ of its own downfall, and therefore it gains neither so 
endurable nor so extensive a rule as superstition. We have 
ah'eady seen that infidelity consists in a tendency to reject 
that part of spiritual things which men believe in from a 
direct inward sense, and which is not proved by reason ; it is 
caused by the numerous instances in which scientific disco- 
veries refute opinions which have been received without 
investigation. In the course of inquiry, many opinions are 
likewise refuted which were adopted in former investigations ; 
but mind rectifies its own errors : not to mention that during 
a long period of time, it is the errors of superstition particu- 
larly that mind must remove. It is natural that this should 
create a doubt against that manner of thinking which has 
so frequently been found in error. Doubt is soon changed into 
distrust ; and this creates, with many people, an excessive ten- 
dency to reject everything, added to wdiich, there arises an 



KELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 77 

■vcilted idea of the power of mind, which is really good in 
tself, but is apt to degenerate into arrogance. The indepen- 
lent feehng which is created, by being delivered from so many 
'latural bonds, degenerates also with others into a wild license, 
.vhich despises every restraint ; and according to the degree 
)f this degeneracy, there arises a rejection of all religion, a 
imcied wisdom which exalts itself above all ideas of virtue 
ind duty, although it would willingly subject weaker minds 
to their influence. It can be easily conceived that poetry 
:annot flourish with such a spirit. The adherents of infidelity 
Dften receive aid from the want of sense they meet with 
among their superstitious opponents ; this want of sense soon 
becomes persecution, which lends a certain value to error, 
both because the understanding scorns any forcible means 
which are used in place of conviction, as by the consciousness 
that he is suffering for the sake of truth. There is a certain 
point of developement, w^hich the highest minds have reached, 
who are most zealous against superstition, and who in their 
zeal are led into extravagancies, that, indeed, does not 
spring exactly from infidelity, but yet in the misunderstand- 
ings and party strifes of the period, causes them to appear to 
stand on the side of infidelity. 

In so far as infidelity gains the upper hand at any particular 
time, it thereby approaches its own destruction. Morality is 
midermined, and consequently little valued. All the secret 
ties which unite families and states, are loosened ; everything 
sacred is scorned ; and the spirit of persecution becomes 
associated with it, as it was formerly with superstition ; but 
this condition bears with it the germ of its own downfall, and 
if the mental powers are not able to overthrow it, it ends 
in great revolutions and regenerations of the social system, 
which, as is w^ell known, are accompanied by such throes that 
they must be considered as the tremendous punishment of 
degeneracy. It is an understood thing that neither infi- 
delity nor superstition, at any period, can attain an exclusive 
power. The reason inherent in our being, together with the 
instructive influences of the surrounding world, prevent most 
men adopting entirely either of these one-sided views, al- 
though few are able to remain perfectly uninfluenced by 
them. A higher power has so provided, that evil cannot 
retain an unlimited superiority, but that germs of a newer 
and more noble developement remain, even when a particular 



78 SirPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

evil has increased in power to such a degree that great revo- 
lutions are necessary. 

7. — How Science counteracts Superstition. 

It appears that most people attribute the most important 
effect which science exercises in the extirpation of supersti- 
tion, to be the destruction of superstitious notions. This is, 
indeed, a very important office, but not the only one ; and I 
should not even call it the most important, if it were not the 
point from which all the others spring. It is very evident 
that the action of the spirit of enquiry, by means of which a 
superstitious notion is eradicated, not only succeeds in destroy- 
ing that particular notion, but at the same time it rouses a 
feeling of distrust in other notions of the same sort. This imr 
portant secondary effect is generally but slightly promoted by 
the destruction of one superstitious notion, but is encouraged 
and rapidly strengthened by the united effects of several dis- j| 
coveries in science. Let us first imagine the superstitious " 
notion withdrawn, by which it was supposed that a solar 
eclipse indicated that a dragon had swallowed the sun. This 
will indeed have a great effect on the reflective powers of 
many, but the impression will be soon weakened among the 
multitude, and will not lead to continuous reflection. Super- 
stition believes in a Sun-god, who rests every evening in 
the sea, and renews his course every morning. Science 
teaches us, that the earth is a sphere, across which daylight 
moves from east to west in the com-se of four-and-twenty . 
hours. Superstition assumes that the fiery car of the sun 
would burn the earth if it were to approach it too closely : 
Science teaches us, that the sun is neither a car of fire, 
guided by an arbitrary will, nor does it approach too near the 
earth. Superstition had her Moon- goddess, which likewise 
exercised much influence upon the earth : science taught 
that the moon also is a sphere, and has an allotted path. The 
destruction of such superstitious views must elicit the thought 
that the whole course of the Heavens is subordinate to fixed 
laws ; whereby those opinions which presupposed events of 
the Heavens, proceeding from the arbitrary influence of the 
gods, turned out to be fallacies. Before I proceed fm^ther, I 
will combat a misunderstanding, which, from what has pre- 
ceded, has not yet been set right; I wish to say, that 



EELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 79 

it is not the poetical signification of the mythological repre- 
sentations mentioned here, which I denominate superstition, 
but the truly prosaical conception, which formerly governed 
these objects in e very-day life. Having made this, perhaps, 
superfluous remark, I shall continue my observations. The 
idea that the events of the heavens are governed by fixed 
laws, was not at first believed in its complete signification ; 
on the other hand, during many centuries, it remained within 
narrow limits, which recognized the doctrine of chances. 
Even those who knew the course of the heavenly bodies, 
were always alarmed at the appearance of a comet. A cen- 
tury and a half passed before science released the uneducated 
multitude from this fear, and it was a much later period, be- 
fore it was driven from the minds of the mass of the people ; 
in fact, not until it was known to the world at large that the 
return of a comet was predicted seventy-five years before its 
amval. For a long time, it was believed that the destiny of a 
man might be fortold by the situation of the stars, at the time 
of his birth. The absurdity of this idea was first displayed 
when it became an established fact, that the planets are 
worlds like our own earth, and the fixed stars are suns. 
These instances of the influence which science exercises 
against superstition, instruct us that it was not merely the 
custom of seeing such superstitious notions destroyed, which 
operated most strongly against superstition, but rather the 
acknowledgment, which had grown into an inward feeling, 
among some people, and had become perceptible to the mul- 
titude, that the course of the heavens was determined by 
natural laws. This effect constantly increased, as a more per- 
fect knowledge was obtained of the clear e^^idence of natural 
laws. The distinct comprehension of the true system of the 
world, made it impossible now to adopt the notion of one or 
more fixed heavenly arches, as was formerly the case ; but by 
that means, many conceptions of heaven, or the road to heaven, 
were destroyed ; conceptions, which had grown up with the 
religion of many people, although wrongly so, since the ma- 
terial signification of the expressions, " the abode of God and 
the blessed," &c., kc, ought, in all cases, to be rejected; and 
the words only be received in their spiritual sense. Lastly, 
the knowledge founded by Newton, of the natural necessity 
of the heavenly laws of motion, must increase the conviction 
that no arbitrary changes are admissible in the motions of 



80 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN THEIR 

the earth. From this we can perceive that all these laws 
are laws of reason — certainly far beyond what our minds 
could have devised ; nevertheless, divine dictates of reason, 
which, happily for us, we are able to comprehend. This con- 
viction receives an invincible strength by resting upon a 
knowledge in which thought and perception are most inti- 
mately united. I have chosen this connected series of exam- 
ples, because by that means, we examine various portions of 
the influences which the natural sciences exercise against 
superstition ; namely, that in the first place, they actively 
destroy superstitious ideas ; next, by the force of habit, they 
cause many superstitious opinions to be doubted ; and further, 
hy pointing out that a great part of the effects of nature are 
regulated by laws whose unity, connection, and unlimited 
extent of action, and whose necessity, as a necessity of reason, 
as the unalterable will of God, are all manifested by a pro- 
found and penetrating investigation. All this is repeated in 
the influences which the remaining parts of science exercise ; 
although it would be difiicult to find another series of exam- 
ples so easy to survey, but this one series will partly enlighten 
the succeeding examples. 

The changes of the weather belong to those events in 
which men have been inclined to see indications of a humanly 
arbitrary, I might almost say capricious, sovereignty of the 
Divinity. That God should bestow rain or drought, storm or 
calm, as an earthly governor dispenses benefits or punish- 
ments, is a notion still held by many people, and not likely 
soon to disappear. In the meanwhile, as we advance in our 
knowledge concerning atmospheric phenomena, we perceive 
that they proceed according to the laws of nature, which 
are of universal validity; heat cannot increase to an un- 
usual degree in one place, without diminishing in another; 
the direction the wind takes in one country depends upon 
what takes place in all the other parts of the v/orld: 
the same change which causes a drought in one country 
bestows a superfluity of rain upon another. The more per- 
fectly the universal validity of the laws which regulate these 
occurrences is seen, and the knowledge of it is spread, the 
sooner will that superstitious opinion disappear of an arbi- 
trary distribution of such natural effects, which is so far 
beneath the conception of an Almighty power. Among the 
superstitious notions of this kind, held at different times, the 



RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 81 

idea that God expressed his anger in thunder and lightning, 
was most strongly advocated. The discovery of the electrical 
nature of lightning, and particularly of the lightning con- 
ductor, most completely annihilated this superstition, although 
in some ways but slowly ; for thought, like electricity, only 
moves with the rapidity of lightning, under a good conductor ; 
but as the conducting effect of the lightning conductor became 
visibly apparent to the dull multitude, now here and now 
there, their prejudices against it were necessarily shaken. 
In one of the cases mentioned at p. 75, the event worked 
like a miracle upon the people, and we repeat it — Lightning, 
whose path is controlled by a conductor, has destroyed many 
prejudices. 

I have cited this well-known example that you may remark 
how the enlightening influence by which science disperses su- 
perstition, often acts with considerable and sensible force, but 
seldom so powerfully as in this instance, although practice and 
experiments always speak with energy. I will bring forward 
some more proofs : let us carry ourselves back into the 
beginning of the seventeenth century. At a certain place in 
France, -'" there fell a shower of blood. Some monks imme- 
diately began to interpret this event as a dreadful sign of 
divine vengeance ; but a naturalist [Peiresc] showed that the 
so-called drops of blood were found in places which were 
under cover, and w^here, consequently, no rain could fall ; and 
that it was caused by a swarm of insects. It is well known 
that we have often been misled by other phenomena to hold 
similar opinions ; for instance, we have mistaken a kind of red 
moss, after it had been washed and swelled by the rain, for the 
production of a shower of blood ; an error which was like- 
wise rectified by naturalists. The stone-rain, as it is called, 
has also, of course, occasioned superstitious ideas. Science 
has not indeed given us all the desirable explanations about 
it, but has yet done sufficient to withdraw it from superstition, 
while she points out some of the laws which that phenomenon 
obeys, and has instructed us that nearly all the meteoric 
stones are composed of the same chemical components. 
Much of the power of science is displayed in the various 
arts of trade, and she thus greatly contributes to remove many 
superstitious opinions, and (what is still more important) to 
spread and to strengthen the habit of reflection. How very 
* Near Aix, in Provence, in 1608. — Tr. 

a 



82 SUPEKSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN 

common superstition was among miners ! Their occupations 
led to so much that was mystical, dark, and dangerous in 
itself, that superstition could easily take possession of them. 
Without denying that a great deal of superstition was always 
retained, particularly among the uneducated, w^ho only heard 
isolated results of science, and those indeed through various 
mediums ; yet the light which science gradually kindled 
concerning the interior structure of mountains, and all the 
different departments of mineralogy, spreads an important 
knowledge which is hostile to every kind of superstition, 
particularly among those who are not of the very lowest 
degree of civilization. Eut the discoveries in science must 
have thrown a faint light, even on these. Among other 
things, a belief formerly prevailed among miners that evil 
spirits threw them down and suffocated them, in the mines ; 
or, that they produced the phenomenon of explosive and de- 
stroying gas. Science has powerfully counteracted this early 
dread of evil spirits, by the propagation of the knowledge of 
explosive gas, and of the different kinds of air 'that are 
noxious to breathe ; and still more, by protecting the miner 
with the Safety Lamp. However imperfect may be our 
acquaintance with the nature of fermentation, yet the know- 
ledge which we have acquired concerning Nature's laws, which 
are there at work, has destroyed many mysteries, and has been 
very advantageous to the purpose for which it is applied. On 
that account this knowledge has been almost necessarily 
received by distillers, brewers, &;c., &c., many of whom have 
only been induced to acquire some scientific knowledge, in 
the hopes of self-advantao;e : but besides the thought which 
this study induced, and which appears the principal object 
many different superstitious notions were at the same time 
also destroyed. I remember, in my childhood, some people 
who were distillers, and w^ho had experienced many misfor- 
tunes in their business, attributed them to the power of 
witchcraft, and they even threw suspicion upon certain indi- 
viduals. In the present day, since we have become familiar, 
through science, with the laws of fermentation, and that we 
possess also comprehensive directions on the manner of pro- 
ceeding, which is rendered necessary by the occurrence of 
different circumstances, we shall in most cases escape such 
mischances, and where they happen, discover the reason 
of them. It was formerly believed that basilisks existed in 



THEIR RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 83 

cellars which had been long closed : — they were invisible, but 
their look killed whoever it fell upon. Since it is become 
more generally laiown that fermentation is produced by a 
noxious air, whose weight causes it to accumulate in low 
places, we recognize the destructive agent and di'ive it away 
by means of fresh air. In our days the various applications 
of the steam engine to so many trades, in navigation, and in 
railway commimication, has led people in general, and parti- 
cularly men in business, to much reflection. The numerous 
other machines, which often perform the most skilful works, 
must have had an equal effect. The Electric Telegraph has 
attracted people's attention, even in those countries w^here 
it is only known by name. These numerous discoveries, 
among other effects which they have accomplished, have 
brought man to the knowledge that the most w^onderful things 
may be produced by using our reasoning faculties ; but these 
great undertakings have not alone contributed to the mental 
developement of the human race ; there is hardly any branch 
of traffic which it has not seized upon, and roused to reflec- 
tion. This awakened spirit of reflection is nearly allied to 
the spirit of inquiry, which is developed by science, on which, 
from its beneficial results, we must lay peculiar stress in 
reference to the extirpation of superstition. 

Science is generally able to refute the superstitious ideas 
which are connected with nature, but more particularly those 
which rest upon a mistaken conception of an actual existing 
object : it stands, however, in a totally different relation to those 
objects which have no foundation in nature. The spirit of 
inquiry, awakened by science, and the method of inquiry will 
destroy the former, but the latter is always more difficult to 
extirpate. An instance of the false idea we have just men- 
tioned, is the supposed danger of thirteen people sitting at 
table. The remark that thirteen people were assembled at the 
Last Supper, does not give the least ground for the foundation 
of such an idea. Many a person refers to his own experience, 
but if he is asked what it was, it only consists in this, that after 
he had once sat at table where there were thirteen people, one 
of the guests died within the year. But what does this expe- 
rience intimate ? Even if it liad occurred to him more than 
once, the spirit of investigation would not recognize it as a 
proof. It would say, that the single experience of one indi- 
vidual, in an affair of such importance, cannot be granted as 

G 2 



84 SUPEESTITION A^'D IXPIDELITY IX 

a proof: it is necessary to learn the experience of many people, 
after several years' uninterrupted recorded proofs, of the 
number of guests at various tables in different societies, and 
the number of those who died during those years ; by thn^ 
means a medium would be gained, which would show th 
the more numerous the guests had been, the larger pro- 
portion of them would have died within a certain space of 
time. But he who tridy comprehends the laws of nature 
will not require this decision, since he knows that the opinion 
under consideration does not at all coincide with nature's law^ 
But I hear many a clever man, who is in other respeo 
educated, say '' I will not exactly maintain that the fear of 
sitting thirteen at table is well founded, but my imagination 
is so absorbed with this notion, that I may be allowed to 
retain this harmless error." AMiereas others remark, " this is 
a very different thing ; we must suffer this pecuharity in others, 
but should any one suffer it in himself.^'' Would it not be 
better to summon his irrational fear before the judgment- 
seat of his own sound reason, and to condemn it to death } 
The error is ti'ifling enough in itself ; but the power which is 
conceded to such a false notion, favours a pernicious dispo- 
sition of the mind. If we discovered that we had a disease 
in our bodv, which we were able to subdue, we should cer- 
tainly do so ; but is not every superstitious idea equally a 
disease of our minds ; and should we not endeavour to subdue 
this r What has been here said of a sins^le case, mav be 
easily applied to many others. We will not stop to go through 
them ; all that we could say of one more than another, v>'ould 
little increase the effect. The scattered remnants of super- 
stition will only gradually lose their power over the imagina- 
tion by means of the spirit of inquiry, for the constantly 
increasing application of science is even distributed over that 
which does not properly belong to her, but only comes in 
contact with her in her various applications to hiunan life. 
But this effect cannot be compared to that which is derived 
from a proper study of science. It developes in the mind of 
man an entirely different inner world, not merely something 
which is simply received and stored up in the memory, but as 
a constantly renewing existence, in which he recognizes an 
all- comprehensive working of the eternally living reason. 
Here, therefore, no room is left for superstition to enter. 

Perhaps it will be now objected, that individual naturalists 
li^ye not been entirely free from superstition. We may of 



THEIR RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 85 

course, with justice reject every example which has no particular 
reference to the development of natural science; for, although 

: forming one whole, still it is subdivided into different parts, 

' which could not be developed with equal rapidity. It is true, 
that all these subordinate parts of science, from the very 
beginning operated against superstition ; but for a long time 
this could only succeed in certain directions, whilst science in 

'Other parts continued to advance along wdth superstition. 

! Astronomy, that department of science which, when the 
human race had hardly emerged from infancy, dispelled so 
many superstitious ideas, was not able, for many centuries, 
to free itself from the follies of astrology ; indeed the adhe- 
rents of this folly w^ere only able to throw it off entirely 
when Newton appeared, and the laws of the heavenly move- 
ments being all proved to be connected with one another, 

;it was found impossible to combine them with the supersti- 
tious notions that formerly prevailed. The example of astro- 
nomy will suffice for the justification of similar objections, in 
relation to the other branches of science. It would be 
more injurious to our opinions, if examples could be brought 

'forward of men who had acquired a great deal of knowledge 
in a highly developed branch of science, and yet were not 
free from superstition. I am uncertain whether such examples 
can be pointed out, but I believe it is possible. Perhaps its 
effect may be lessened by the remark, that human nature is 
apt to be inconsistent in the course of its ideas ; but in most 
cases, and perhaps in all, it will be found that no one can be 
superstitious in any department of which he has a profound 
knowledge, assuming that he is profoundly versed in this 
iepartment. Yet it might happen, that even he who 
bas acquired a considerable proficiency in a particular 
oranch has worked it out in such a one-sided manner, that 
le cannot bring himself to believe that nature everywhere 

obeys as stringent laws, as in that particular province 
ivith which he is best acquainted. I, therefore, think it 
mpossible, that any one in possession of our present know- 
ledge of astronomy could have the slightest tinge of super- 
stition with regard to the heavenly movements ; on the other 
land I should not deny it as absolutely impossible, though I 

5 should consider it very doubtful, if I heard any one say, that 
m able astronomer fostered superstitious ideas upon subjects 
vvhich were foreign to his sciences. But perhaps I am wrong 
admit so unreasonable an objection. 



86 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IIS" 



8. — The influence of Natural Science when opposed to 
Superstition, 

We have seen how science in the course of its development 
causes infidelity. We particularly dwelt on the consideration 
how in those numerous instances where ideas and opinions 
have been refuted which we were accustomed to connect with 
the most sacred convictions of man, they have been frequently 
shaken and even destroyed by science. It is easy to perceive 
that science herself operates against the doubt and the arro- 
gant rejection of profound truths, which she herself has 
unintentionally called forth ; for while she is always con- 
tinuing to purify and explain knowledge, she will destroy 
many a false argument which originates in a less perfect 
knowledge ; she refutes and rectifies her own errors, exer- 
cising the spirit of investigation, and separating the true from 
the false ; and while she allows us to feel how easily we may 
err, she teaches us a salutary distrust of our own judgment. 

If we only intended to treat of the somewhat casual en- 
couragement which infidelity receives from science, om* 
apology has already been given ; but science, from an efibrt 
peculiar to its nature, has awakened a dangerous idea among 
many people, which, if pursued in a one-sided manner, might 
lead to atheism, namely : — while she points out that all the 
operations of Nature are subject to laws, and that these laws 
are necessary, invariable, and eternal, she has caused many 
people to believe that this necessity, which pervades everything, 
is a blind necessity which, belonging also to Nature herself, 
precedes all reason, and should therefore be independent of 
it. This way of comprehending things pre- supposes inani- 
mate matter to be the foundation of all existence, which has 
been from eternity, and which possesses certain necessary 
properties : all that we denominate the spiritual, has been 
produced from its equally necessary mode of acting ; and 
even our power of thinking is only the result of the pro- 
perties and movements of portions of matter. Every one 
feels how unsatisfactory is this way of comprehending things, 
and would dread the efiects of science, if this were all it 
led to. 

The best answer to this is the well-known truth that an 



THEIR RELATION TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 87 

opposite idea has been held by most of the labourers in 
science, since they point out in Nature the most admirable 
foundations for rational intentions, so that we are accustomed 
from the wise arrangements of Nature to obtain a proof of its 
origin in all-powerful reason. This would suffice, if we only 
required a superficial apology ; but in that case, not to men- 
tion that we should leave the matter with that discontented 
feeling which is caused when tw^o antitheses remain irrecon- 
ciled, we should also leave an important accusation untouched. 
As science advances she always leads to a more perfect 
discovery of the laws of nature ; and at each step shews us 
their more intimate connection with one another, so that the 
necessity of all that happens becomes more and more evident. 
It may be objected on the other hand that the wisdom of the 
contrivance is likewise always more perfectly recognized ; 
but the irreconciled point of dispute faces us with still more 
urgent summons, in all its restlessness, doubts, and possibili- 
ties of infidelity. We will therefore bring forward the truths 
of science which may best explain the matter. 

Without regarding what we learn from science relating to 
the designs of Nature, and to the wisdom revealed in the attain- 
ment of these designs, we are led, by observing the com- 
plete necessity of the laws of Nature, to the conviction that 
Nature must be a contrivance of Reason. Science namely 
represents the laws of Nature to be laws of Reason, which 
however, our reason, restrained within various limits, would 
not have discovered without the assistance of Nature ; but with 
this assistance, actually finds it out. The result of all our 
observations on the laws of Nature is, that they altogether 
form an endless unity of Reason. The necessity is there, 
but it appears as a necessity of Reason. But if it were still 
objected, that this necessity of Reason is also a necessity of 
Nature, and that our w^hole spiritual being is her work, and 
that therefore it must conform with Nature, we should then 
be able to answer, that this neither can nor should be denied ; 
but that it is no objection, because necessity ceases to be a 
blind fatality, if it is recognized as a necessity of Reason 
in that sense of the word, where it not only indicates what 
must necessarily be admitted by our reason, but that it is 
conformable and necessary to that reason from which all the 
laws of Nature spring. But this answer w^ill not be suffi- 
cient so long as people consider matter to be the foundation 



88 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY IN 

of ev'erytliing in Nature, and not merely as a part of her 
essence. It is one of the earliest, we may say, the original 
prejudices of the human race to seek for the simple and the 
invariable as such in the material : certainly a very little re- 
flection was necessary to shew that all bodie*^s are perishable ; 
but then we only regarded matter. It is true, in all our ex- 
perience, it seems imperishable; but let it be observed, it 
is not the various and dissimilar materials, but that ponderable 
something occupying space, w^hich is common to ail matter ; 
in other Vv^ords, the matter which is universal in all bodies. 
According to the earliest system, matter was supposed to con- 
sist of extremely small bodies, of unequal size and form, but of 
extreme hardness : this idea certainly found a ready acceptance 
in science, but it does not belong to it; we have indeed no 
knowledge of matter but from its acting power, and from the 
laws of Nature, by means of which it operates. If we investi- 
gate the peculiarities to which matter is subject in each individual 
body, we perceive that these peculiarities rest upon laws of 
Nature, by which laws the effects are produced. Our investi- 
gation is indeed arrested before certam materials, which, for 
the present, we must consider simple elements ; but science 
leaves no doubt that this is a mere passing idea. We may 
perhaps hit on some peculiar materials, which may be really 
acknowledged as the fundamentnl elements of matter, but 
even then our only power of distinguishing them, is by the laws 
of their action. In short, matter is not an inanimate exist- 
ence, but an expression of activity, by which all the pervading 
laws of Nature are determined and restrained. The principle 
of action and the order in existence are not, therefore, two 
distinct objects, but one living, constantly creating, and regu- 
lating totality of Ileason, an eternal living Reason, which is, 
God !^^ 

But does not all this necessity exclude the idea of design 
and wisdom ? By no means, if we only remember the im- 
mense distance w^hicli exists between infinitely perfect wisdom, 
and that of all finite beings. Even in the exercise of human 
reason, whether on a machine, on the government of a state, 
or on a scientific work, we shall always find a more perfect 
harmony in the parts, the juster and purer are our concep- 
tions of the primary idea. We often discover agreements 

* The whole of this paragraph should be compared with the conver- 
sation entitled the Spiritual in the r>Iaterial. 



THEIR HELATIOX TO NATURAL SCIENCE. 89 

which only owe their origin to the consistent application 
of the primary idea, as if different dispositions had been 
fonned for their production, although they really spring 
from the peculiar harmony of reason; but every individual 
expression of reason, that is to say unlimited reason, is a 
residt of the peculiar nature of reason, and therefore is at 
once the means and the end. We can only exemplify this 
imperfectly by instances, though at the same time, these are 
not entirely useless, if the meaning is properly appropriated 
and applied. As a mental ex2:)eriment, let us imagine that 
everything we know concerning the form of a sphere was 
still unknown, and that an artist endeavoured to discover a 
form that should appear alike on all sides, that should balance 
itself if placed upon a horizontal surface, should have a sur- 
face which would inclose a greater space than any other 
form of the same size : what an extraordinary depth and 
variety of thought it would require ! But he, on the other hand, 
who starts from the principle of this form, viz. that of a space 
whose sm-face is everywhere equally distant from a centre, 
will find far more beautiful and remarkable properties from 
the necessary development of this idea, while a mere endea- 
vour after this end, without a previous knowledge, would 
either never be successful or only by a cii'cuitous means. Let 
us now turn to Nature herself; but let us only bear in mind 
in the idea of the universe, that precaution by which, in the 
endless variety of existing beings and life, one object is never 
allowed to interfere with another; how can we conceive a wiser 
design, than the distribution of the whole mass of the universe 
into innumerable habitable spheres, each possessing its pecu- 
liar days and seasons, containing degrees of heat, density, &c. 
kc. : How could we imagine anything better than the arrange- 
ment, by which a large proportion of these spheres derive light 
and heat from one sun, and whose periodical days and seasons 
are determined by the revolution of each round its own 
axis, and by their several orbits around the sun r But 
all these and many other designs connected with it, are 
the necessary result of those laws, by which the parts of 
matter, and motion, and attraction are directed. Viewed 
in a finite light, the end and the means are separate ; in the 
reality and as a whole, they are one. If we now turn our 
attention to our own world, we see the most beneficent 
an-angement, such as the alternation of days and seasons, 



90 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY ETC. 

produced from the comprehensive and necessary laws of 
Natm-e. If, on the one hand, we regard the beneficial effects 
which are produced by the movement of the sea, by the ebb 
and flow of the tide, we must, on the other hand, recognize 
that they necessarily spring from the same general laws. If 
we bestow praises on the vicissitudes and equalization of heat, 
which are caused by various currents of air across different 
tracts of country, we shall again discover that they are con- 
sequences of the general laws in connection with the expan- 
sive power of heat. Let us now enlarge the idea from these 
examples to its utmost extent, we shall then see that the belief 
in the ends which Nature has in view, does not exclude 
necessity; and, again, necessity does not exclude these ends; 
but as the poet says, — " The means and end embrace each 
other in reason." 

Thus true science excludes infidelity as well as superstition. 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 



The essential Unity of Intelligence throughout the Universe. 

The first chapter contains the substance of an address I delivered at the 
Scientific Meeting at Kiel in 1846, and which I shortly afterwards added 
in German to the report of the meetings of the Assembly. Although this 
treatise first appeared in the German language, it was nevertheless origi- 
nally Danish, and I had already communicated it verbally to many Danish 
auditors in 1845, at a meeting of the Society for the diffusion of Natural 
Science. The present paper however is not a mere reprint of the above- 
mentioned report ; it has received many improvements, and has been much 
extended. The succeeding chapters were written very lately. 

The object for which I request your attention, namely, an 
enquiry into the essential unity of the Understanding Faculty 
throughout the universe, does not at first appear to belong to 
natural science ; but on a nearer view, we perceive that it 
ought to be associated with it. Nature is not only material, 
it is pervaded and governed by the soul, as is expressed by 
the eternal harmony of her laws ; our body is clearly one of 
the objects of natural science, yet it contains all the organs 
of our understanding. Science has taught us much about 
the organs of our senses, and is continually making farther 
advances in this direction ; but she does not rest within these 
limits, she penetrates into the structure and arrangements of 
the nervous system, and still has the task before her, of en- 
quiring into the connection between these organs and our 
faculties ; — a problem which science has hitherto but little 
contributed to solve, though she has given us some important 
hints, and towards which her efforts are continually turned. 
We shaU feel how important this enquiry is to our whole 
investigation, if we consider how an imperfection in the organ 
of the understanding confuses a man's comprehension of the 
world, and indeed all his ideas of human and divine objects. 

While it is proved by Science that the laws by which our 
earth and all its inhabitants are guided, are also adapted to 



92 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

other planets, her enquiries extend to the inhabitants of the 
whole universe. Many of the learned reject these enquiries 
^yith scorn, because they cannot be proved with mathemati- 
cal certainty ; but when wc consider the insecurity of the 
early steps in every branch of science, and that if we despised 
the first beginnings, we should never reach perfection, it 
seems to me that it would be of use to the cause of science, 
that we should try our powers in researches of this kind, 
only endeavouring to keep as near as possible to that which 
has been already proved, and distinguishing between the 
uncertain and the certain. | 

This enquiry may have the appearance of soaring into the ^ 
region of metaphysics, but it will be shown in the sequel that 
it remains within the bounds of Natural Science, and does 
not attempt to discover the origin of all knowledge. The 
philosopher may regard this inquiiy in the same light as he 
would those of the physiologist on the organs of sense ; the 
efforts of the naturalist in the promotion of his own science 
at the same time prepares experimental matter for the use of 
the philosopher. 

I hope that when I assert this essential unity of the under- 
standing faculty throughout the universe, that no more will 
be understood by this than is warranted by the expression ; 
and that it may be distinctly seen that unity of essence does 
not exclude the greatest variety in the forms of existence. 
We need only look round our o^vn inhabited planet, and we 
shall discover most striking examples of the unity of essence 
amidst the greatest variety. What different forms, for in- 
stance, exist in the organs of breathing among different 
classes of animals ! [lungs, gills, tracheae.] How different 
again are the organs of motion ! [arms, fore-feet, wings, fins.] 
Equally dissimilar are the organs of hearing, so strikingly 
exemplified in the Mammalia and fishes, that only an ex- 
perienced observer can detect the same intention and an 
essential resemblance in the means supplied by nature. It is 
hardly necessary to mention that there must be an infinitely 
greater variety on the other planets ; indeed, there possibly 
may exist mediums of understanding there, which we are 
ignorant of here. 

I must apologise for one more warning. In the following 
pages, I am going to prove in some detail, that the laws of 
nature hold good throughout the universe. This universality 



I 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE REASON. 93 

has been presupposed by all ^vho have entered on physical 
researches, and assuredly with justice ; for in the connection 
and results of their discoveries, this is sufficiently proved. 
It is not these enquirers that I here endeavour to convince ; 
I rather beg their indulgence ; but I address those, of whom 
there are many, whose contemplation of nature has not per- 
fectly convinced them of this truth. I also perceive that I 
might have included this, and the rest of my communication, 
in very few words ; but I thought it better to approach the 
subject by a more explanatory discourse. 

I shall present my ideas in the form of examples ; but I 
shall endeavour so to select them, that general conclusions 
may be easily derived from particular instances. We wiU 
first turn our attention to the laws of motion, and convince 
ourselves that these primary laws are such as are required by 
om* power of understanding, so far as it rightly comprehends 
itself: on the other hand, that these laws, independently of 
us, are obeyed by nature. 

We know^ that the straight line is the simplest ; we see 
this at once when we consider it in a mental point of view ; 
as whether we imagine a straight line in our minds, or des- 
cribe it visibly to our senses, it is always associated with one 
miiform unalterable idea. This is more clearly developed 
and proved by mathematics. Let us now further consider 
that a simple force must produce a simple motion, and we 
then perceive that this must necessarily be the first law of 
motion, namely, that every simple impulse must produce a 
rectilinear motion ; and behold nature has constantly obeyed 
this law, long before man discovered it. It is a necessary 
law of reason, that what is without will is incapable in 
itself of determining upon any change, and therefore that no 
motion can either be accelerated or diminished, or even change 
its direction, wdthout the intervention of new^ effects : in other 
-vords that every simple motion must have a uniform velocity 
ind be in one direction. This is so manifest to the reason, 
that we can scarcely believe that it is only during the last 
century that it has been clearly developed. But in pursuance 
of this law, there is a further consequence, namely, that each 
constantly operating force every moment receives a fresh 
impulse of motion equal to that imparted at the beginning, 
and that the velocity thus produced must increase uniformly, 
so that the velocity acquired at any time must stand in pro- 



94 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

portion to the time elapsed since the first moment. This 
simple truth, viewed on mathematical principles, led to the 
discovery of many laws which were hitherto concealed from 
experience ; but which, now that inquiry had been started, 
readily yielded to its researches. 

By the application of these truths^ we arrived at the 
knowledge that every curvilinear motion is the result of 
compound forces, and not of simple ones. That all active 
forces which diverge from one point, operate in planes which 
have a given relation to the squares of the distances ; that 
their power therefore must stand in every point in an inverse 
proj^ortion to these squares, is a very simple demand of 
reason, but has been only recently acknowledged. 

If we cannot prove satisfactorily to our minds that uni- 
versal attraction is a law of reason, it nevertheless is a fact 
whose incontrovertible truth must be acknowledged by reason, 
and which has received a far higher application from the 
operation of the law of the inverted squares of distances. 
By the farther application of all this knowledge, the laws of 
central motion were discovered ; and in reference to those 
movements by which all bodies in conformity with the laws 
of universal attraction are urged towards a central point, it 
has been proved that the paths described must be of the form 
known by the name of conic sections : thus we are convinced 
when by experience, an orbit is discovered, that it must 
be produced by a force which follows this same law. All 
these researches, therefore, prove that the movements of the 
planets are governed by the same laws as those of a projected 
body on the surface of our globe. 

I cannot be expected now to develop all the proofs of 
what I have just communicated ; such an undertaking would 
not only require a series of discourses, but would be super- 
fluous ; as every one who has studied these subjects knows 
that the truths to which I have alluded with such brevity 
have been acquired by the uninterrupted efforts of profound 
thinkers during nearly three centuries. I may therefore 
consider this great scientific fact as generally acknowledged, 
namely, that those laws which have been discovered by the 
efforts of the mind when matured by experience, are valid for 
all the movements of the heavenly bodies. 

Let us now endeavour to apply this to our present purpose, 
and to show that the universal validity of these laws, recog- 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 95 

nized by reason, also compels us to adopt the idea of the 
essential similarity of the understanding faculty throughout 
the universe. 

In our endeavours to gain general ideas, I fear we may fail 
in distinctness ; and we will therefore now turn our attention 
to some one planet, and we shall soon see that the particular 
features which we there notice may easily be comprehended 
under general known laws. We will make an imaginary 
experiment, and suppose ourselves placed on the planet 
Jupiter. We will watch the transition of days and nights, and 
experience the various seasons as on om- o\ati planet, only with 
the difference of the durations and other proportions. These 
changes arise there, as here, from the rotation of the planet on 
its axis, and from its orbitual motion round the sun ; both 
these movements are produced by the same simple laws which 
we have discovered on our own globe, and applied to the 
universe. We shall there likewise see moons which obey 
the same laws as our moon, and we shall also be able to com- 
prehend those phenomena by the same powers of the under- 
standing as exist on our planet. Let us now suppose another 
creature placed in our position, differently constituted in every 
respect, but possessing the same consciousness of natural 
impressions. Such a being might differ from us in the form 
and mode of his perception ; but so far as the harmonious 
laws of nature are rightly appreciated, his understanding 
faculty must agree with these laws, and consequently with 
our powers of thought. If his understanding did not accord 
with the laws of nature, it could then neither be guided by 
reason nor truth, but would be irrational and false ; an idea 
which is as irreconcileable with our conception of the under- 
standing, as the gift of sight would be with blindness ; and 
which we therefore dismiss at the first glance, but will after- 
wards more thoroughly refute it. If we attempt to reverse 
the case, and begin to doubt whether we had perhaps com- 
prehended things wrongly, while the inhabitants of other 
planets were correct ; or that they are equally mistaken, 
though in a different manner; we reply that the prophetical 
nature of the mechanism of the heavens gives us confidence ; 
for we learn from it to foretell the most various events in the 
heavens with the utmost exactitude and security. Putting 
aside the numerous predictions of the eclipses of the sun and 
moon, and the particular positions which the planets should 



96 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF EEASON, 

occupy at certain fixed periods, — predictions, each of which 
would astonish us if we were not so accustomed to witness 
them, — we will only call to mind that after the short period 
of four years during which observations had been made on 
Uranus (a planet discovered by Sir William Herschel in 
1781,) it was calculated that it required eighty- four years to 
complete its course, and what is still more remarkable, that 
Gauss, from the observations of a few days, accurately calcu- 
lated the orbit of Ceres, and that her position was actually 
found by the result of his calculations ; that Le Verrier, from 
the apparent ii'regularities in the movements of Uranus, dis- 
covered the orbit of an unknown planet, whose position he 
determined on a particular day. Every one acquainted with 
the subject knows I have only mentioned here but very few of 
the triumphs of astronomy, merely to call attention to the 
subject. The number of exactly determined and fulfilled 
predictions is beyond calculation. They must spring from 
elementary truths of unquestionable authority ; and an opposite 
opinion could not accord with natural phenomena, and con- 
sequently must be untrue. 

Let us again turn our thoughts to the inhabitants of Jupiter. 
We now perceive that neither the course of the sun, the 
moon, nor the stars, nor indeed that of the whole universe, 
can be calculated by different laws from those which we 
acknowledge ; that consequently they cannot comprehend 
their movements in a different manner from ourselves. The 
same laws which they have discovered in the study of the 
heavens, they will find again on the surface of their planet ; from 
the agreement between the actual movements of Jupiter's moon 
with those previously calculated from the laws of nature, it 
follows with mathematical precision, that the laws of gravity 
are the same in those planets as in our own ; as, for instance, 
here all bodies fall with equal velocity in a vacuum, so it must 
likewise be there, only allowing for a different measurement 
of space. It necessarily follows that the projectile movements 
there, as here, describe curved lines in which the same laws are 
displayed, and it is equally certain that the laws of circular 
motion must be the same there as here. It is true we cannot 
support all these conclusions by facts derived from observa- 
tion, as we are able to do in relation to the heavenly move- 
ments, but this is not requisite, as they are only necessary 
consequences of already ascertained truths. Yet it may not 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON, 97 

be superfluous to verify it by a fact drawn from experience. 
We find that the form of Jupiter has been produced by the same 
laws as those which govern our earth; we know, indeed, that the 
last approaches the form of a perfect sphere, but still deviates 
from it to a certain degree, as towards the equator it is some- 
what larger in circumference : we know that this deviation 
arises from the rotation of the earth on its axis, which causes 
every portion to be carried round in circles, in which the 
centrifugal force of the parts has a definite relation to their 
distances from the axis. When, therefore, we are acquainted 
with the circumference of the earth as well as its diameter, and 
the period of its rotation on its axis, we are able to calculate 
the distance which the centrifugal force every second would 
carry each individual part away from the centre, and we find 
that at the equator it amounts to 1-2 89th part of that motion 
which the attraction of gravitation towards the centre endea- 
vours to impart to it. It would sm-pass my limits now to 
mention all the additional considerations which have caused 
the earth to assume its present form ; it is suf&cient to know 
that all who are conversant with the subject have agreed in 
the essential points of the calculations they have hitherto 
severally aiTived at, and that this again has been confirmed 
in all essential particulars, by measurements. The same cal- 
culations may be applied to the other planets, — for instance, to 
Jupiter. This planet has a far greater diameter, a swifter 
rotation, and the gravity on its surface exceeds that of our 
earth. From all this we can calculate its deviation from the 
spherical form, and find that this deviation is far more con- 
siderable than on our earth. The form of Jupiter is deter- 
mined by astronomical measurements of its axis, and by its 
diameter at the equator, to be in exact conformity to what 
had been previously fixed by calculation. From the researches 
on om- own planet it is proved, that its density must increase 
towards the centre ; and we learn by calcidation that it is 
the same with Jupiter. We thus perceive that the natural 
laws existing on the earth are made visible to us on the 
surface and in the substance of Jupiter. 

The inhabitants of that planet therefore, as is the case on 
our own globe, may apply their understanding faculty with as 
much effect on what most nearly suiTOunds them, as on the 
movemeuts of the heavenly bodies. This similarity by no 
means excludes great differences ; thus, for example, we may 

H 



98 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE KEASON. 

calculate that the weight or gravity on the surface of Jupiter 
is two and a half times greater than it is on our earth ; that 
the rapidity of descent in falling bodies in various parts of 
this planet, presents greater inequalities than it does with us; 
and that its density is far less than that of our globe. But all 
these differences have been produced by the same laws. 

Should the inhabitant of Jupiter be able to comprehend 
all these relative conditions exhibited by Nature, he must, 
indeed, be acquainted with her laws. He may, possibly, 
have a clearer, a more vivid, and a more comprehensive know- 
ledge of them than we possess, or, on the other hand, a far 
weaker ; but, as far as he recognizes these laws, the real 
nature of his understanding must be similar to our o\^. A 
straight line must to him, equally appear a simple motion ; and 
a curved line, on the other hand, the product of more than 
one force ; the same mathematical progression must equally 
give him the idea of uniform accelerated velocity ; to him the 
relation between Abscissae and Ordinates in curved lines is the 
same as with us, as for example, in the ellipse, which is the 
primitive form of planetary motion, or in the parabola, which 
bodies describe when thrown in an oblique direction. But to 
comprehend these relative conditions, we are conscious that 
there must be an exercise of reason in connection with the 
perceptions of the senses. If differently constituted beings 
comprehend these same truths, they equally require the 
employment of their reasoning powers ; and as they are beings 
with senses, this comprehension must not only rest on the 
operation of the outward, but also of the inner senses : in 
short, every comprehension of the laws of Nature is an 
exercise of reason on a sensational basis. You will meet 
with a sufficient number of examples in the sequel which will 
make this more distinct ; I will now only dwell a few 
moments on the dissimilarities which may occur united to 
these similarities. 

I know that many will be inclined to reproach me with 
alluding to the possibility of such dissimilarities ; and on that 
account I will meet the doubt at once, though I will after- 
wards treat the matter with greater detail. The similarity 
which I have placed in the mathematical comprehension of 
the subject would not be destroyed, even if the inhabitant of 
Jupiter had a power of calculation, which so far surpassed 
ours, that he could as easily comprehend and calculate sums 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 99 

of ten figures as we do those of two ; or if by a single effort of 
mind, he could master a series, which would give us infinite 
difficulty to comprehend; or, in an equally rapid manner, if 
he should be able to comprehend all the relations in a conic 
section, as easily as we perceive the similarity of all the radii 
of a circle; still the conditions of the mind would be the 
same. You will easily perceive that all this may be applied 
to thinking, which is quite apart from mathematics. 

All we have said of the planet Jupiter may be applied 
with equal force to the other planets, though some of them 
may present a less perfect, others a more complicated 
representation. 

Our considerations have hitherto kept within the limits of 
the Solar System, we must now extend our view beyond it. 
We are taught by our researches that the laws we have 
mentioned reach beyond this system, and the presupposition 
of their universality daily receives greater confirmation ; but 
if it is true that they are throughout the universe pre- 
sented to the comprehension of self-conscious beiugs, it 
necessarily follows that this faculty must in its nature be 
everywhere the same. 

Let us select another example no less striking and universal 
in its operations ; the laws and effects of light. Nature and . 
thought again meet here in the most perfect agreement; 
thought matured by experience now anticipates the pheno- 
mena we have to expect, now resolves that which was 
unforeseen, into comprehensive terms. In the \isible operation 
of light we again encounter the straight line. All which 
experience teaches of the effects of light at different distances, 
of the magnitude and form of the shadow of reflected light, may 
be deduced from the acknowledged laws of reason, and are 
all necessary consequences of reason. The same holds good 
of the refraction of light, its solution into colours, its polariza- 
tion, interference, kc, if we only look further and consider 
that obscurities still remain which must be dispelled, but 
which do not prevent us from recognizing with certainty the 
essential and reasonable connection of existing laws. It is 
easy to beUeve that the laws of light, as well as those of 
motion and attraction, operate throughout the Universe. The 
light which we receive from the sun, the planets, and the 
fixed stars, is of a similar nature to that which is produced on 
our globe; it is refracted and reflected and collected into 

h2 



100 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF EEASON. 

images by our perspective glasses and reflecting telescopes, in 
the same way as the light which proceeds from terrestrial 
objects. The greater proportion of that which we wish to 
proye rests on an endless number of experiences connected 
with the subject, which will be clearly understood by all who 
know the principle of our optical instruments. Our experi- 
ments on light equally prove this in a different manner. Yf e 
produce the same chemical results from terrestrial light as 
from the light of the sun or other heavenly bodies, and 
develop colours irova it according to the same laws, thus 
exhibiting in a more visible manner that identity which 
optical instruments have already taught. We polarize all 
light in the same manner, whether it be terrestrial or pro- 
ceeding from the heavenly bodies. From Astronomy we 
derive that great fact demonstrated from the aberration of 
light, that from whatever part of the universe light proceeds, 
it has always equal velocity. We must add to this that the 
phenomena of light which we observe on those planets which 
are provided with moons, for instance, the shadows that are 
thrown by each moon on its presiding planet, or that these 
cast on their moons, always obey the acknowledged laws of 
nature. 

The relative conditions of light, therefore, as much as those 
of motion, prove that there are no limits in the immeasurable 
range of the universe, beyond which the laws required by 
our reason would be invalid. 

This is a good opportunity to offer some examples of the 
great differences which may exist together with the essential 
Unity. We already know from the creatures on our globe 
the wonderful variety in the mechanism of the eye ; how 
different it is in the mammalia, the tribe of fishes, or in the 
insect world. And how much greater must be the difference 
between the visual organs of other worlds compared to that 
on our planet ! On the other hand it is scarcely probable 
that any conscious beings exist, to whom light does not convey 
some knowledge of distant objects. 

We may learn from the theory of light, that great varieties 
may possibly exist in the sense of sight. It shows us, namely, 
that Light is produced by vibrations in aether. We only receive 
actual impressions of light when the breadth of these waves 
of aether are between the 300 and 175 millionth part of a line, 
and but little impression from such as are below, or above 



ALL i:xiSTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 101 

this proportion. Those waves of rether, which are too slow 
for our sense of sight — that is, those waves which are of 
a greater breadth — produce a sensation of heat ; the quicker 
ones manifest themselves by chemical effects. There may be 
visual organs which are only adapted to receive those slower 
vibrations, or again, others only fitted for quicker ones, or 
even some for all that we are susceptible of, along with many 
others. This possibility is not an abstract notion, but fxrmly 
based on the nature of existing matter ; for we know that the 
rays which do not affect our sense of sight, are yet reflected 
and refracted, in obedience to the same laws as those which 
are visible to us, and that they therefore are also capable of 
producing pictures. Those rays which are distinguished by 
chemical effects, it is well known, present very beautiful 
images of things. 

As the impressions of colour are produced in us by vibra- 
tions in the aether, of unequal velocity, so colour may be 
exhibited to other beings in a different manner again ; but in 
spite of this dissimilarity, there will still exist considerable 
agreement, and the dissimilar velocities of the vibrations will 
produce as many dissimilar impressions, within those limits 
which are set to the inward perfection of the senses. The 
faculty of perceiving colours may, however, be greater in: 
other creatures than in ourselves. Among the colours which 
we perceive by our senses, red is produced by those tremu- 
lous motions of the aether which 8.re slowest, and violet 
colour by the quickest : but the former, as we have already 
said, are not twice as quick as the latter. The utmost rela- 
tive velocity in vibrations of colour on our globe, even to the 
most susceptible eye, are between one and two. We are 
much in the same situation with regard to colours, as one 
wliose sense of sound could only grasp the compass of a single 
octave would be in relation to tones. A creature whose 
visual organs embraced as many octaves of light, as we do of 
tones, would be endowed with a perception, and with sensa- 
tions which are denied to us. 

A dissimilar susceptibility for the reception of dissimilar 

degrees of light, must also produce the greatest differences. 

We will again turn our thoughts to Jupiter. This planet 

'receives five- and- twenty times less light on every square inch 

than our planet does. The light thrown upon objects may 



102 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

be still furtlier diminislied by a duller atmosphere. It is, 
therefore, most probable that its inhabitants, in order to distin- 
guish surrounding objects, maj possess a more acute perception 
of light than ourselves. But this greater susceptibility also 
accompanies them in their contemplation of the heavens. 
Inasmuch as their atmosphere is not very much less trans- 
parent than ours, the stars will appear far richer and more 
brilliant to them ; they will therefore learn more from theu' 
observations, and consequently will gain much more easily a 
comprehensive knowledge of the universe. From the rapid 
rotation of this planet, nearly twice as quick as that of our 
earth, they receive an impression of the apparent revolution of 
the heavens, in quicker succession, which must also influence 
the impression itself. We can indeed conceive that the 
quick interchange of day and night may be united wdth a 
corresponding variety of activity and repose, and this again be 
accompanied by a quicker and more vivid susceptibility, as 
well as a more rapid disappearance of impressions. To this 
may be added, that the inhabitant of Jupiter has a better 
view of the structure of the universe, by the far larger orbit 
of his planet ; and he is also able more easily to make those 
calculations which are requisite to determine the distances of 
the fixed stars. 

It is of course, understood, that I have have merely men- 
tioned possible, or probable circumstances, which are only 
necessary under certain conditions. It is evident that other 
conditions may exist ; for instance, a greater or less perfec- 
tion of those parts, which in the inhabitants of other planets 
might correspond with our nervous system. My present 
object was only to show how the greatest diflPerences may 
exist with unity of nature. 

I will only say a few words on the sense of sound. All 
-vibrations of a certain velocity, in bodies of sufiicient density, 
affect om- organs of hearing, yet the vibrations of atmos- 
pheric bodies, it is ascertained, are most perfectly adapted to 
call forth in us the most varied and most definite sensations 
of sound. Vibrations must exist on all the planets ; but it 
depends on the organization of their inhabitants to determine 
the rapidity of the vibrations w^hich shall excite sensations 
leading to the recognition of the surrounding world. 

I have hitherto only offered examples, which, in a compre- 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF EEASON. 103 

hensive sense of the term, may be called mechanical ; we 
shall be asked for chemical examples, for which purpose, how- 
ever, the word must be understood in a still wider sense ; we 
will now endeavour to give some of this description. It 
must be acknowledged that chemical laws are as much laws 
of reason as are the mechanical. This assertion cannot indeed 
be so fully borne out in respect to the former, as to the latter. 
It is an important fact in the history of science, that chemis- 
try was developed at a much later period than mechanics ; 
the knowledge of heat, electricity, and magnetism, and even 
of the combination and decomposition of matter, during the 
sixteenth century, was but very slight ; chiefly gathered from 
the isolated facts of experience, while to the investigator into 
the laws of nature, their harmony was but faintly and at 
intervals disclosed; but their dependence on reason has 
become more and more clear w^ith the increase of our know- 
ledge. I well know that I have represented as the result of 
liistory, that which to the reflecting mind is self-evident, 
but it is not sufficient that this truth should be granted ; it 
must be brought prominently forward, that the inward per- 
ception of it may be complete. 

How gradually and widely the discovery has spread 
of the imity of the laws of nature in the phenomena 
of heat ; and how perfectly the dictates of reason are 
obeyed in the radiation of heat, as well as in light ! 
Our knowledge of electricity made but slow progress 
during the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth 
centuries ; but since Benjamin FrankKn discovered the fun- 
damental law, namely, that the tw^o difierent electricities are 
to be viewed as imiversally distributed active forces, and 
magnitudes of an opposite character, we perceive how one 
discovery springs from another. Keason could now derive 
many smaller truths from one distinct and definite truth, and 
point to them in nature. The discovery of the voltaic bat- 
tery, suggested indeed by galvanism, was yet, in another 
point of view, the result of this theory ; and how many efiects 
produced by this battery were subsequently discovered, by 
means of reflection, guided by experience. It had scarcely 
been proved that the voltaic battery could decompose water 
into its primary elements, than the most beautiful discoveries 
on the effects of electric chemistry followed for a succession 
cf years, and still continue. The researches into magnetism 



104 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

made a similar step in advance during the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries, and afterwards became connected with 
the discovery of electro-magnetism. Every one knows that 
this discovery had been long demanded by a thoughtful con. 
sideration of nature ; but that when it really arrived, it was 
found far more comprehensive than w^as before expected. 
Whether the new law of circulation may be referred to the 
electric stream or the magnet, or whether, by further dis- 
coveries, to a simpler law, it became a guide to new conclu- 
sions which were confirmed by experience. 

In the com'se of the same century, chemistry advanced by 
the constantly combined influence of thought and experience. 
At first, indeed, the laws which were discovered were con- 
siderably clouded by error, which even in a more advanced 
state of learning is unavoidable ; but the new^y discovered 
laws were always more and more freed from this mist, and 
stood forth as a necessity of reason. In our own times we 
already see the dawnings of mathematical laws in the com- 
bination of matter and the connection of forms with the con- 
stituent parts ; I say the dawn, not because the discoveries 
made here are more subject to doubt than many other 
branches of human knowledge, but because it is evident that 
what we now see, is only the morning dawn of that which is 
to be expected in the future. 

It is of the greatest importance to enforce on our minds, 
that the discoveries of this century have proved the unity of 
all those effects which we have just mentioned. This unity 
cannot indeed be so perfectly represented as the unity in the 
laws of motion, but it has still been so much confirmed and 
cleared up by the discoveries of our century, that it can no 
longer be doubted. Added to this we already see numerous 
indications of a future, in which the chemical and mecha- 
nical laws of nature will be more intimately united. 

In short, the natural laws of chemistry, as well as those of 
mechanics, are laws of Reason, and both are so intimately 
connected, that they must be viewed as a unity of Reason. 
The question now is, whether chemical as well as mechanical 
laws prevail throughout the universe ? Reason demands it, 
but this will not satisfy us ; we must, therefore, submit the 
whole case to mental contemplation. 

We began by endeavouring to prove, that the general 
properties of matter are everywhere the same. Extension 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 105 

and form we see in the heavenly bodies; connection and 
divisibility cannot indeed be actually perceived in distant 
planets, but it will be presently shown that we are com- 
pelled to acknowledge them by other properties. It is 
most important to remember, that w^eight or gravity is 
one of the fimdamendal properties of matter. It is recog- 
nized as the phenomenon of universal attraction, but it will 
be useful to our pm-pose to give it a closer examination. 
It is proved by mechanical science, that if it were possible 
lor all the planets to be brought to an equal distance from the 
sun, without regarding the inequality of their masses, they 
would fall towards the sun with equal velocity, and that 
the moon is subject to the same law with respect to her 
presiding planet. This is as certain as the laws of Kepler, 
and the principle of mechanics. We accordingly see that 
same law, of the equal velocity of falling bodies, wdiich we 
have recognized on our own earth, hold good, though in dif- 
ferent proportions, in the tendency there is to fall towards the 
sun, and of moons to fall towards their planets ; but w^e da 
not even rest here, for, on further enquiry, w^e perceive that 
the same law operates among all the heavenly bodies. 

That which has been called impenetrability, and which is 
really a result of the force of extension, proceeds from the 
attraction which w^e have already alluded to, w^hich exists on, 
and in, all the planets ; for without some resisting power the 
force of attraction w^ould compress all parts towards one 
point. We may express this also in another manner. Every 
part of a planet must, in consequence of the gravity of other 
parts, not only bear the pressure of the overlying, but also 
the side-pressure of the surrounding parts, all which is alone 
possible by the so-called power of impenetrability. Wherever 
the forces of attraction and extension exist, there must also* 
be connection, and if this connection is not insuperable, 
which is hardly possible, there must also exist separation of 
the parts, consequently divisibility. 

Besides this, the planets exhibit the similarity of their 
matter to the earth, by their capability of reflecting light ; for 
without this similarity they could not have that necessary 
effect on the waves of cether w^hich produces light, so as ta 
cause reflection. But even the self- illuminating planets could 
not create waves in the aether without this property : even 
supposing we admit a different theory of light, a mechanical 



106 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF HEASON. 

force would still be wanting to emit it; for even the theory 
of Newton requires this force, to hurl out the particles of 
light with immeasurable velocity. 

The power of motion, which is reckoned among the general 
properties of matter, is displayed throughout the system of 
worlds in which all is motion. Inertia, which is only the 
absence of will in the inanimate, is exhibited through the 
whole universe in our numerous predictions of the move- 
ments of the heavens, which are verified in their fulfilment. 

We may now pass on to qualities and effects, whose univer- 
sality we are apt to neglect, although we partly recognise it, 
in important predictions. 

That the laws of heat are not confined to our globe has 
been long and justly believed, which is confirmed by the 
knowledge of the present day. Those rays of heat which 
proceed from the sun, follow exactly the same laws as the 
rays of heat belonging to our earth. It is also now acknow- 
ledged that heat and light differ only in the different degrees 
of velocity in their sether-vibrations, and that it is possible 
for the rays of light to pass into rays of heat. As radiation 
must be considered as the basis of heat, we must admit that 
the laws of heat prevail throughout the universe. With us 
the solid, the fluid, and the aeriform state of bodies, all 
depend on degrees of heat ; if, therefore, matter is every- 
where the same, these circumstances will also exist ever}^- 
where under similar conditions. 

We see here an ample confirmation of the assertion so 
long maintained, that the planets, not only with regard to 
light, but also in reference to heat, have the same distribution 
on their surface, of days and seasons, as exists on our globe. 
Particular causes will of course produce an exception to this 
distribution, as, for instance, Saturn's ring. 

Let us consider further, that our experiments have shown, 
that bodies may become electric and magnetic by friction, by 
contact between dissimilar substances, or by variations in 
heat ; and we can scarcely doubt that the same effects, in 
conformity with similar laws, are at work in other planets, 
and that it is the same with the productions of heat and of 
light, of magnetism through electricity, and again of electri- 
city through magnetism. 

All this must also apply to chemical effects, in the more 
limited acceptation of the term ; to the combination and ana- 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 107 

lysis of matter. By means of electricity we can produce the 
most various internal changes, and why should not a power- 
fid stream of electricity, which converts a body here into dust 
and vapour, do the same on other planets ? Must not the 
electric stream, there as here, dissolve the union of antago- 
nistic materials, and must not its force, when so directed, 
preserve the chemical divisions of quantities ? 

A distinguished chemist, and an excellent experimentalist, 
not many years ago, was led to a supposition by some difficult 
researches connected with his science, which was opposed to 
the universality of one of the great laws of nature ; namely, 
that the masses of different substances which have equal 
weights on our globe, did not possess it on other planets ; 
which in other words means, that the law of attraction was 
not universal. As a true experimentalist, however, he tested 
this idea, and weighed those bodies which had raised this 
doubt in his mind, at different and stated hours of the day 
and night, so that if the sun did not attract this matter in 
equal proportion to the earth, there must be an inequality in 
their weight ; but after weighing them most carefully, he 
found no difference. It was thus proved, that a relative con- 
dition which is intimately connected with the study of the 
inner nature of bodies, has unalterably asserted its universality 
in chemistry. Innumerable messengers from the region of 
space have in a remarkable manner made known to us the 
resemblance in the nature of matter both of the interior and 
exterior of our earth, and have even pointed to a similarity 
which enters more into particulars than we could have learnt 
from any other source, — I allude to meteoric stones. Though 
their composition may undergo new combinations on entering 
our atmosphere, yet their general agreement with the bodies 
on our earth is very striking, both with regard to the ele- 
mentary parts, the combination, and the crystals proceeding 
from it. 

Thus there exist everywhere the same materials, the same 
forces, the same laws ; and these laws are founded on reason, 
and consequently can only be acknowledged by reasonable 
beings. 

We have still to consider a most important side of the 
question: the similar manner of development of all the 
planets, and what we may thence derive for our present 
object. We know that the earth was in a Huid state before 



108 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

it became solid. Among the proofs of this truth, there is one 
which may be applied to all the other planets, namely, the 
variation of om^ globe from its spherical form, which we have 
already noticed on other grounds. It is indeed an acknow- 
ledged truth, that the forces which have produced this 
deviation from the spherical form in the earth, could only have 
effected this while the planet was in its fluid state. Now as 
this deviation also exists in other planets, so far as we have 
been able to determine their form and rotatory movement^ 
and as the relative condition of the different diameters in each 
of these planets, are such as are demanded by the natural laws 
with which we are acquainted ; it is proved that the other 
planets must also have been, at one time, fluid. 

If we are now thoroughly convinced that everything in 
material existence is produced from similar particles of 
matter, and by the same forces, and in obedience to the same 
laws, we must also allow that the planets have been formed 
according to the same laws as our earth. This we know, 
however, that they have developed themselves during im- 
measurable periods of time, in a series of transformations^ 
which has also influenced the vegetable and animal creation 
of those periods. This development began with the lower 
forms, and advanced by gradual steps to higher, till at length 
in the most recent periods a creature was produced, in which 
self-conscious knowledge was revealed. We must therefore 
allow a similar mode of development in the other planets. 
There may be many which have not yet attained such a degree 
of development as our globe, or again other far higher beings 
may have been created ; but everywhere the creatures en- 
dowed with reason are the productions of nature in the same 
sense as ourselves, that is, their understanding is bound up 
with the organs of their body ; therefore the nature of their 
understanding cannot be fundamentally different from our 
own, but must obey the same laws. I now only speak of 
an undeniable fact with respect to man, without encroaching 
on those profound researches, as to the manner in which the 
Spiritual is connected with the Material. That I may avoid 
the mere appearance of Materialism, I must direct your 
attention to the conciliatory principle, that the same nature 
from Avhich man springs, must also be recognized as the pro- 
duce of the eternal creative Spirit ; and that accordingly the 
divine origin of our soul cannot be denied, by granting the 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 109 

rights of Nature. In other words, the conception of the 
universe is incomplete, if not comprehended as a constant 
and continuous work of the eternally creating Spirit. The 
creative portion of this conception is the Spiritual ; the 
Material is the produce of the creative, and would cease, if it 
were possible for the work of production to cease. As a pro- 
duct of Nature, the Spiritual in man must in this sense 
contain the laws of Nature, although they are only brought 
into consciousness by natural phenomena ; while surrounding 
nature without human aid must operate in accordance with 
man's faculty of understanding, although this understanding 
faculty may in general, only after several thousand years, 
attain an insight into the pervading harmony of existence. 
It is easy to perceive that the grounds which lead us to this 
con\iction are also everywhere valid. Throughout the uni- 
verse there are beings endowed with the faculty of under- 
standing that they may be able to catch some sparks of the 
divine light ; and God reveals himself to these beings through 
the surrounding universe, and rouses their slumbering reason 
by that Reason which reigns through the sensible world ; nay, 
he gives them a deeper insight into material existence, the more 
their own minds are awakened ; and thus they find themselves 
placed in a ceaseless and living development, which, after 
having reached a certain point, removes them farther and 
farther from the idea that the foundation of Being is that 
which is palpable, and which leads them to acknowledge and 
view themselves, their spirits and bodies, as parts of one 
eternal organism of Reason. 

Thus do the truths of Natural Science continually approach 
nearer those of Religion, so that at last both must be united 
in the most intimate connection."^' 

The Fundamental Similarity of the Laws of Beauty in the 
Universe. 

If the essential imity of the active forces of existence, as 
M'ell as those of intelligence throughout the Universe is 

* It will not escape notice that I here repeat many truths which I have 
mentioned in other portions of this work; but as they are each time 
presented in a different connection with the remaining portion, and could 
not be omitted without injuring the remainder as a whole, I hope these, 
imd a few other repetitions may be pardoned. 



110 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE REASON. 

proved, it follows that a like essential unity must prevail both 
in the sense of the Beautiful, and in the conscience ; but this 
will not be so easily acquiesced in, without entering into more 
detail. We will begin therefore with the sense of the 
Beautiful. 

It has been already shown by what we have said, that the 
same fundamental forces and laws prevail in other planets as 
in our own ; that the living beings of other planets are pro- 
duced by the same forces and laws as those on our globe ; 
that they are endowed with a thinking faculty of the same 
nature as ours, though probably very different in power and 
clearness ; that they must possess sensational faculties, by 
means of which they are enabled to apprehend material 
effects, and not only have these faculties organs of external 
sense, but also an inward capability to receive and preserve 
those impressions, which have come through the senses ; in 
short, an inner sense. Added to this, there is the power to 
apprehend those impressions, which by the vibration of ex- 
ternal bodies are produced on the frame of the self-conscious 
being, and also the power to obtain knowledge of the outer 
world by the vibrations of the aether. The first of these pro- 
positions is indeed necessarily followed by the remainder, but 
they have been fully explained in the preceding pages. 

If we contemplate the feeling for the Beautiful, as it is 
revealed to the rational inhabitants of our planet, we find that 
its essence consists in this, that our inner sense is so formed 
according to the laws of reason in the rest of existence, that 
it is satisfied with whatever bears the stamp of reason; 
although this enjoyment does not necessarily imply any 
consciousness of this reason. This truth is demonstrated in 
our former dialogue " The Fountain ;" but to those who 
desire a more ample explanation, I refer them to my paper 
^' Two Chapters on the Study of the Beautiful in Nature."^' 
The same law must exist for the thinking and sensational 
beings of all the other planets. This truth requires no actual 
proof, though indeed a closer examination, to be accepted. It 
has been shown in the first part of this paper, that the inha- 
bitants of other planets must comprehend the laws of motion 
in every essential point as we do ; among other things, as has 
been already pointed out in the figure of the moon's orbit, 
which was predetermined by the truths of mathematics ; they 
must also recognize in the circle, the ellipse, the parabola, &c., 
• Published in German. Hamburgh^ 1845. 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. Ill 

the same laws of reason as we see in them ; and as they are 
beings with senses, and have been produced in time and 
space, and therefore are under the influence of things in time 
and space, they must interpret those figures produced by the 
mathematical laws of thought in a similar manner as we 
understand them. All figm-es in harmony with the laws of 
nature may be viewed as mathematical, so that the term 
mathematical is superfluous, and need only be used to direct 
attention to those figures which are most generally treated on 
mathematical principles. The sense of form must thus have 
a similarity of nature in aU the planets ; it must be every- 
where in harmony with reason, it can therefore only find 
satisfaction in what is reasonable, and come into collision with 
all that is unreasonable. Let us imagine a perfect circle 
drawn beside a rough attempt to describe the same figure, and 
we can have no difficulty in perceiving that the mind which is 
better pleased or equally satisfied with the last as much as with 
the first figure, cannot be moulded according to the laws of 
reason. The same might be repeated in the delineation of 
every other figure; this single example points to many others. 
Symmetry is one of the most comprehensive forms of beauty 
to the inhabitants of the earth, but it is founded on one of the 
principal features of thought, the unity of opposites ; we 
cannot therefore imagine that the beings of other planets 
should not find beauty in symmetry, because in aU. these the 
sense of the beautiful must be in harmony with reason. The 
human form on our globe expresses the highest form of beauty 
which can exist among earthly creatures; though the pure 
expression of the idea is somewhat obscured by the peculiar 
development in each individual man, and besides, frequently 
by a strong mixture of accidental circumstances ; but where 
this idea is approached with an exalted view, or where it has 
been seized and represented by the artist, we then see before 
us the highest form of beauty which the material world can 
afibrd, [see p. 24.] On each of the other planets the being in 
whom reason has most completely developed itself, will pro- 
duce an impression closely allied to this. We need scarcely 
mention that the form in which this idea may be expressed 
on other planets must not only depend on the force and 
completeness, but also on the material conditions in which the 
creature has been formed. 

Here on earth light bestows a feeling of joy which is 



112 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OP REASON. 

grounded in the nature of things ; to comprehend this, we 
must consider that light as well as heat is produced by aether 
vibrations. In whatever manner we may view the differences 
between them, it is still certain that those effects of nature 
which produce light may be lessened so as to produce heat, 
and that those which engender heat, may be increased to the 
creation of light. We shall not err if we admit that light is 
produced by quicker, and heat by slower sether- vibrations, 
even though we have not mentioned all the differences that 
exist between them ; but the condition of bodies essentially 
rests on heat. Their expansion or contraction, and the reci- 
procal mobility of their parts are determined by their amount 
of heat ; we may indeed in a certain sense say that they are 
inseparable from the condition of heat; even the forms which 
they assume depend on the reciprocal action of heat upon 
them. Let us suppose that all bodies gradually lost their 
heat, they w^ould contract more and more, and at the same 
time grow harder, and would become internally torpid; in 
fact, they would in time die away and vanish. It is true that 
it has been ordered by the original plan of existence, that this 
cannot happen ; but on the other hand it is no less certain 
that inward action and life depend on heat. Now light is the 
great source of heat in our daily apprehension of nature, and 
is more clearly manifested to us in existence, and by that 
almost unknown inward connection which w^e have here 
brought forward. Man requires no scientific research to feel 
the connection between Light and Life, since Light itself is 
indeed quickening in its actual effects. It seems to influence 
everything, but it acts most sensibly on the nerves of sight, 
on which it operates wdth such immediate force, that through 
the visual organs it alone conducts the most comprehensive 
perception of external nature to our inward consciousness. 
Light is the great proclaiming power of the world. This is 
so true that nothing is better known ; but because it is so 
continually present, there exists but an imperfect and slum- 
bering knowledge of it among most people, so that to enable 
us to comprehend the source of its enjoyment w^e must be 
reminded of it ; the true enjoyment of light, every one must 
have learnt by his own experience, if at all conscious of what 
passes within him. 

All we have here said relating to the inhabitants of earth 
must equally apply to the inhabitants of other planets. 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 113 

Light acts throughout the world, and on all bodies. AVe have 
shown that its operations follow the same laws throughout 
the universe. He must have but a very small feeling for 
Nature, who does not at once feel convinced of the truth, that 
wherever there are alternations of day and night, and of light 
and shade, that all living creatures must have a perception of 
light ; indeed, we must carry out this idea still farther, for 
since the effect of light is universal, and one planet transmits 
light to another, the living being upon this planet must 
necessarily have a perception of light, and the being endowed 
with self- consciousness receives a revelation of another world. 
Let their organs of sense, even their whole material frame, be 
entirely different from ours, still if we grant them to be 
created in harmony with the laws of Reason, which we have 
found prevailing throughout nature, so far as our knowledge 
has reached ; then their enjojTiient of light, and their sense 
for the Beautiful in the visible creation, must obey the same 
laws as with us. To give still greater force to this idea by a 
more enlarged view, we will turn our attention to that impres- 
sion which the contemplation of the stars must equally make 
on the inhabitant of another planet, as on ourselves. As his 
sense of sight under similar conditions receives similar effects, 
even so the heavens must be a vault to him, as our heavens 
appear to us ; it must seem to him, as to us, a dark ground on 
which the lights of heaven shine. The surface of his planet, 
with all that is trifling or impure on it, must vanish in dark- 
ness beneath his nightly sky ; while, on the other hand, he 
receives numerous and clear impressions of light from distant 
worlds. His thoughts must be led away, far from his daily 
occupations, and be so enlarged that he conceives a great 
image of existence, which becomes richer and more vivid, the 
deeper he penetrates into Nature. 

We have already observed that on every planet vibrations 
are produced by the reciprocal action of bodies, of the same 
kind as those by which sound is generated with us ; that 
living bodies are not excluded from participating in these 
vibrations, and that as certainly as they are conscious of what 
passes within them, they must be affected by them. We may 
besides add, that the laws by which vibrations are regulated 
are so entirely the result of a natural state of things, that they 
must prevail everywhere. All the lesser vibrations of a 
similar stretched musical string must last as long on other 



M 



114 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE EEASON. 

planets as on our own ; the increased Telocity in the vibrations 
of different strings must be in proportion to the increase in 
the square roots of the extending forces, or in the diminution 
in the length of their diameter ; wherever vibratory motion 
is given to a flat surface covered with dust, the same figure 
will be described in every part of the universe as with us ; and 
it will likewise be everywhere the case, that the masses of air 
which are inclosed in a pipe, are not brought with the same 
ease into every possible kind of vibratory motion, but that by 
means of external action each mass of air is enabled only to 
give those particular vibrations, which are not opposed to the 
reaction from within. In short, all outward conditions of the 
effects of sound exist on other planets as on ours ; they act on 
living bodies which are subject to the universal and funda- 
mental laws of Nature ; and these, if we grant that they are 
conscious of the harmonious changes which exist around them, 
must be very differently impressed from those who do not 
perceive how the dependence on the law is sustained. Well, 
are we not forced to acknowledge that the primary laws of 
sound everywhere exist ? 

I touch but briefly on the study of the universality of the 
laws of the Beautiful, partly because the matter viewed in its 
present connection does not require any great detail ; partly 
also, because the nature of the subject does not afford any 
very complete application of our method of inquiry. 



The essential Principles of Morality the same throughout the 
Universe, 

To exemplify this I will again begin with the consideration 
of what passes on our own planet. I shall be obliged to 
allude to much that is well known, and even the connection 
which I intend here to exhibit, cannot be new ; I must, how- 
ever, express it as I comprehend it, otherwise that which J 
have to say would be misunderstood. 

It has been already explained in the earKer divisions of 
this book, how the contemplation of Nature when founded on 
reasonable grounds proves that all existence is an everlasting, 
perpetual, active work of the Eternal and Living Reason, 
which, when viewed in its Self- consciousness and Personality, 
w^e name God. We must therefore distinctly remember that 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 115 

ae human race is a part of this whole, and that every single 
man as one of the race becomes a part of the great Unity of 
existence ; in order that we may place ourselves upon that point 
of view from which the ideas and feelings relating to right, 
duty, ^-irtue, piety, and all that is connected with them appear 
in harmony with the rest of Nature. WTiat we learn in refer- 
ence to man may be applied, in the most essential points, to all 
reasonable beings in the universe, namely, we infer that as our 
inquiry into the laws of unconscious Nature began with objects 
on our own globe, and by degrees advanced to the knowledge 
of those natural laws which embrace all the objects in existence 
which ai'e without volition ; so we commence in a similar 
manner with an inquiry into the natural laws of the voluntary 
and thinking being, which stand forth still more prominently 
as laws of Reason, than those belonging to inanimate Nature. 

WTien we have expressed the great truths, that Natm^al 
and Divine operations are one, and that the laws of nature 
are Divine thoughts, we may without fear of misinterpreta- 
tion be allowed to describe the same object sometimes as 
natural and sometimes as divine, selecting whichever of these 
expressions is most suitable to the object in question. In 
this we do not deviate from usual custom— for instance, we 
sometimes call the spii-itual capacities of a man natural 
abilities, or the gifts of nature, or sometimes a talent en- 
trusted by God — but while we here afl&rm, with more than 
usual force, the spiritual essence of material nature, the justi- 
fication of the tendencies which stand opposed to this consi- 
deration, is brought so much the more vividly to our con- 
sciousness. 

In accordance with this we say that man is born with those 
natural capacities which make him a reasonable creature. 
We may therefore say, man is born for reason, for justice, 
for the recognition of a God ; but all this exists only in those 
capacities which are developed into self-consciousness by 
reciprocal influence with the rest of existence. Inasmuch as 
this is the case with each individual man, so it is with the 
human race. We only intend here to point out their develop- 
ment as it relates to om^ consciousness of a God, and our 
consciousness of duty ; developments which partly follow one 
another, but more frequently take different directions, till at 
a certain point they flow together, and form one. 

So long as the human race remains at the earliest point of 

i2 



116 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE HEASON. 

mental development, where inquiring Thouglit has not j^et 
testified its presence, it is natural for the spirit to imagine 
something in the external world allied to itself, and hence 
Heaven and Earth, in the childhood of the human race, 
become peopled with thinking, feeling, and willing beings. 
Already therefore, the knowledge of a God, which exists in 
human nature, begins to appear ; though it is yet but a germ, 
which must develop itself in co-operation with the other 
forces of the world ; without these it would be choked by the 
weeds which grow along with it. 

Intercourse with our fellow- creatures is natural to the 
human race ; indeed, we may almost say that it is part of the 
nature of a reasonable, sensational being to be a social 
animal. While he both receives impressions and reinfluences 
other beings of his own kind, a feeling is awakened of the 
essential similarity between his own nature and that of those 
with whom he communicates. A complete series of different 
degrees of development must indeed be passed through before 
this feeling can attain its full signification ; let us, however, 
consider how this development leads to the ideas of morality. 
For a long time the growth of mutual love suffered continual 
interruptions, from the fear which one man entertained of 
another, and the violence resulting from it ; meanwhile man- 
kind at large from time to time either mutually assist or 
injure each other, and thus there is awakened some con- 
ception of good and bad intention, of right and of wrong. * 
However dim these conceptions may have been, still they 
were the starting points of a series of progressive move- 
ments in successive races, which cannot be overlooked. • 
After the existence of long periods of barbarity, in which the 
social feelings came into contact with the various demands of 
selfish interests, they attained in one country or another such 
strength that men combined for mutual help and defence. 
At this point the idea was called forth, of a certain law and 
order necessary to their confederation, whose maintenance was 
requisite for the common benefit. In the progress of that 
confederation this consciousness is still further developed ; the 
thought of virtue and duty becomes more and more appa- 
rent. Let us not meanwhile forget, now or afterwards, that 
all these external and internal causes are the operations of 
the same Eternal and Living Reason by w^hich all is created 
and sustained. We therefore must confess that this develop- 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE REASON. 117 

ment, when viewed merely in a one-sided material light, seems 
to be a contradiction to our spiritual nature, but that it really 
obeys the Almighty and Omnipresent Divine will. 

We should have a false conception of the development of 
the human race, if we thought that all men equally contri- 
bute to it. There have been some highly- gifted men to whom 
these ideas first became clear, and who thus were able to 
express them to the multitude. Such men are generally 
far advanced beyond the rest in many other respects ; they 
know how to impart many useful truths, for instance the 
future positions of the heavenly bodies and the course of the 
seasons ; they are therefore looked upon as intimate with, 
those spirits which are believed to dwell in all natural objects, 
in other words they are regarded as the friends of the gods ; 
they are admired and obeyed. These men, however, have a 
deep conviction that what they know and impart to others 
is far from being exclusively the result of their own labours, 
for their minds have been wakened from without by those 
natmal objects which they have observed and on which they 
have reflected ; and, even their inner mental capacity, by 
which they have worked out these external impressions, they 
must regard as a gift of natm-e and of the gods. They feel 
themselves as it were inspired, and without deception pro- 
claim themselves the chosen of the gods. In this simple 
faith there indeed exists a truth, which in later times has 
been often overlooked ; it is the divine agency and govern-* 
ment in man and natm-e, which has obtained a living, though 
not perhaps a clearly defined, consciousness in their minds. 
I need hardly say that the human race continues in this way 
to develop its moral conceptions as well as its knowledge of 
nature from century to century, and from thousands to thou- 
sands of years, and that these ideas and this knowledge are 
unfolded in obedience to necessary laws of existence by the 
reasonable works of Nature, namely, by the human race in 
constant reciprocation vvdth nature and with each other. 

This mental growth of the human race is associated with 
the first idea of a God, but, as in the former case, this is 
at first of very slow growth. The worship of nature for 
a long period predominated; but, by degrees, in propor- 
tion as the moral ideas of man were developed, they were 
transferred to their gods. To prove that the heathen divini- 
ties were merely natm^al gods, it has been stated that 



118 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF HEASON. 

many immoral qualities were attributed to tliem ; but this 
must not conceal the true relation there existed between 
them. Men bestowed the spme moral qualities on their gods, 
as they themselves displayed ; and this they did, it is evident, 
to each deity, according to their different conceptions respect- 
ing the powers of nature he might wield. We must not 
forget, when considering this subject, that the original myths 
vfere formed at a period when there w^as a very imperfect 
notion of morality, and when license, rapacity, and cruelty 
were by no means excluded ; as man was, so were the gods 
who were created by him, in conformity to his rude poeti- 
cal notions. This original character still remained with the 
gods, in a subsequent and more polished period, during 
which, nevertheless, some poetical ideas were added ; but at 
length there came a period when, from the progress of civili- 
zation, the gods were in direct opposition to the natural as 
well as moral conceptions of the age. At first the gods of 
ancient days were only rejected by the enlightened, but after- 
wards by the multitude. This manner of proceeding naturally 
varied with different people ; but the principal features were 
the same in all. We cannot indeed speak with the same 
knowledge of the period which preceded Zoroaster and Con- 
fucius, as of that which preceded Socrates ; yet we cannot 
doubt that there was a great similarity in the course of 
events. 

Natural Science had a great influence on the more advanced 
conceptions of the recognition of a God, by banishing fi:om 
the rank of free agents those natural objects which had been 
formerly worshipped, and submitting them to the laws of 
nature ; for when the car of the Sun-god rolls on without his 
guidance, the belief in his existence disappears : and so it is 
with the Moon-goddess, when her silvery light, far from the 
woods and meadows on w^hich she sometimes pours her 
radiance, wanders without her guidance : indeed, aU the gods 
will be driven from their mountain thrones, wherever these 
laws are properly acknowledged. 

In the development of the human race there are certain 
turning points where the mind of man may be said to have 
attained a new and a higher station ; but the most immediate 
effects of this success are not without important losses to 
the succeeding period. While old and rooted errors are 
dispelled, great truths which are connected with them are 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 119 

almost always, in the arrogance of victory, likewise over- 
thi-owTi, and among the childishly ignorant multitude who 
have adopted the new opinions, not from conviction but on 
the word of others, and without any clear connection of ideas, 
there arises an insecurity of feeling with regard to all intel- 
lectual questions ; the former ideas of the physical universe 
are all broken up, and there is a period of license which 
throws back a people or whole nations, into a depth of error 
and darkness, from which they are only able after many cen- 
turies to disentangle themselves. 

These revolutions however, should not hinder us from 
seeing how Reason and Light conquer in the' end; every 
endeavour to trace the connection of one thing with another, 
and to comprehend the laws of existence, contributes its part 
to lead the human race to the recognition of a God even 
where this was not intended, indeed when such an endeavour 
had an opposite end in view. All the paths of thought lead 
at length to a more complete comprehension of the great 
unity of ideas ; although often at first leading aw^ay from this, 
the efforts nevertheless of a multitude of thinkers must be 
finally guided towards the true centre ; for reflection destroys 
its own mistaken tendencies. 

We will force our way to this central point that we may 
seek in what the unity of all our endeavours consists, in order 
to find a principle for the lessons of duty and virtue. How- 
well known are such principles as the following : Advance 
towards perfection. Promote the general good, Follow those 
maxims which can rise to general laws, &c. We need not 
name them all, which would at any rate be a wearisome task ; 
it is enough to mention that which is generally applicable^ 
and we shall then find, that whichever maxim we may select 
for the object of our reflection, although it maybe a principle 
which every reasonable being would be forced to reject at 
once, it is sure to have a final tendency to regulate our lives 
according to Eeason. None of these principles contain the 
w^hole essence of Virtue ; but they have still contributed to 
guide those into the path of reason, who comprehended and 
obeyed them : for one wise maxim of life which is fii*mly 
adhered to, compels us, if we do not fall into frequent con- 
tradictions, to follow all the maxims of reason so far as we 
can perceive their connection with that principle whence we 
commenced. Even the precept, " Promote your own happi- 



120 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF SEASON. 

iiess," which in its direct acceptation is both despicable and 
opposed to reason, will yet require us to lead a life in har- 
mony with reason, if we remember that intellectual pleasure 
must be included, to form happiness ; however, we must allow 
that this precept is peculiarly subject to be wrongly applied. If 
the notion of happiness is completely comprehended in con- 
nection with the happiness of the whole nation, it then leads 
to a correct representation of our moral relations w^hen 
viewed on one side. We must, namely, take into considera- 
tion that man, even when he is led away by his passions, and 
forgets his reasonable nature, cannot entirely dissipate the 
influence which the reasonable connection of the world must 
have on him ; the evil that he does, and even the evil that he 
thinks, brings him in opposition with his own nature, and with 
the whole of existence, however much he may endeavour to 
hide it from himself. Whatever is sin, in a religious sense, 
is folly, in a true perception of the w^orld. He then w^ho is 
thoroughly convinced of an eternal reason in existence, w^ill 
find that happiness is one wdth virtue and piety. It is true 
that it is often very difficult to be practically convinced of 
this truth, in the face of strong opposing impressions which 
w^e meet at every turn, so that the better persuasion is often 
forced to submit ; but this weakness of the human race can- 
not prevent us seeing in that conviction a powerful support to 
virtue. 

With respect to most other moral systems, that w^hich 
is most clearly perceptible in them is the requirement that 
human life should be guided by reason, not indeed accord- 
ing to that of any single individual, but by eternal reason. 
It is not merely our lives that must be regulated by it, 
but all our inner being must yield to this reason, and rise 
along with it ; man must feel that he possesses his true spring 
of life, w^hen he appropriates to himself eternal reason ; other- 
wise his whole life remains but a broken, irrational, miser- 
able existence. Everything w4iich appeals to our virtuous 
and upright feelings, naturally leads us to a divine life, that 
is, to religion. 

This manner of thinking is at once strengthened by the 
conviction which arises from the knowledge of natural science. 
This teaches us that the material w^orld, which before we con- 
sidered as acting in opposition to reasonable existence, is 
most entirely incorporated into it ; so that the operations of 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 121 

nature proceed in obedience to a reason which is entirely 
independent of us, but which nevertheless is the same reason 
which we should endeavour by means of our free will to 
realize. We thus know that our life, both inwardly and out- 
wardly, continually grows in more perfect accordance with 
the whole of existence, the more it is guided by divine reason. 
But how can we reconcile this doctrine of the obedience of 
the material world to the commands of reason with that 
incontestable truth, that we are frequently inclined to deviate 
from virtue by our own material nature, and by the impres- 
sions of external nature ? This truth cannot be denied, but 
it must be viewed in connexion with another equally incon- 
testable truth, namely, that our own uncontrolled thoughts 
equally lead us to be in contradiction with virtue. We see, 
therefore, that this touches on the lot of finite beings, to which 
indeed we are unavoidably subject, though in no single in- 
stance without responsibility. It is the same here as in our 
endeavours to make use of external nature, especially when 
these are somewhat complicated; we seldom succeed in so 
arranging everything in what we undertake that the suitability 
or relation of some particular parts to the external world does 
not interfere with the attainment of the highest perfection; 
but it no less frequently happens that there are mistakes in 
oiu- thoughts and projects, which cause such imperfections. 
We therefore see this in the intellectual as much as in the 
moral world; and that the cause of our errors is not to be 
found in the material nor in the mental faculty as such, but 
that its origin dwells in our finite natures. 

Is there no opposition between God and the world ? Yes ; 
the Infinite is a reality equally with the Finite. We could 
imagine a man who lived entirely with God, setting aside the 
consideration in which he must hold the life of other indepen- 
dent beings, the difference to him between God and the world 
would then have ceased ; but no one ever reaches such an ideal : 
this much only we may say, the more a man strives after this 
ideal, the more frequently will he be permitted, in sacred 
moments, to destroy this opposition within him ; while in his 
mental perception he realizes the immediate operation of God 
in that which is called the world. It therefore foUows, that 
the less a man lives with God in this world, so much the 
stronger to him will be the opposition between God and the 
world : yet it must not be forgotten, that even he who strives 



122 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF KEASON. 

most earnestly to dwell with God in this life, must yet always 
view the world, in a certain sense, as in the greatest opposi- 
tion to God; inasmuch as he distinguishes, by the term 
" world, " all that in the Imite, which separates free agents 
from Deity ; a form of speech which the better deserves to 
be retained, since it possesses the right of old and sacred 
usage. 

But while we have represented existence as a kingdom of 
reason, we are again met by a doubt in the question : How is 
this reconcileable with that freedom of will which permits 
evil, and consequently irrationality ? This must surely have 
an influence on the course of events in the world ! Before we 
undertake to answer this question, w^e must remember that 
this is the principal difficulty in all our attempts to compre- 
hend the government of the world, and of which the Christian 
Church gives us the strongest example. The pm^pose of our 
present enquiry does not oblige us to answer all the questions 
which may be raised with respect to free will ; but only so far 
as will explain to us how reason may rule on a comprehensive 
scale, associated with individual freedom of action; and this 
we will now^ attempt to do. 

So far as man thinks^ he is free. His freedom grows with 
thought, and without it, he is subject to the laws of unconscious 
nature. Man is never an entirely free agent, or a complete 
slave to nature ; he floats between the two extremes, though 
in very unequal proximity to the one or the other condition. 
Free activity of thought is only in a certain sense with- 
drawn from the laws of nature, which are indeed one with 
the laws of existence. It might appear that the freedom of 
the individual was opposed to the dominion of universal law; 
but this appearance vanishes at a nearer view of the case. It 
is indeed evident that actions are performed under the guid- 
ance of free will, which are not only blameable, but also in 
their immediate efiects contradict what would otherwise 
follow from the universal law of reason. It might thus seem, 
that from the manner in w^hich finite creatm-es abused their 
free will, God was obliged to perform arbitrary actions ; 
actions which lie beyond the eternal order of reason ; but we 
must at the same time consider that as w^hat is contrary to 
reason in thought, is sure at last to destroy itself, even though 
it may have claimed a semblance of truth for many ages ; so 
also all that is contrary to reason in the remaining portion 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OE REASON. 123 

of our free agency, will destroy itself. Thought, in conformity 
: with its nature, must act according to Nature's eternal laws ; 
: 80 that its irrational flights are in opposition to its fundamental 
I essence ; and in this there is an attempt to weaken the power 
of evil in the will itself. Besides this, by the wisdom of the 
' whole of existence with which man is in constant and reci- 
procal communication, he is required to regulate his thoughts 
in harmony with this wisdom, so that the conclusions of our 
free will, though not absolutely perfect, may be in a general 
manner intermingled with the reasonable harmony of the 
whole: but so far as the effects of evil disturb the arrange- 
ments of reason, they produce counter effects, which in the 
: end destroy the evil. All this follows naturally; but it 
requires some explanation; we will therefore begin with an 
example. 

Let us imagine a man possessed with a blameable thirst for 
■ power. This quality is not essentially worse than any other 
natural disposition : it generally possesses the capability of 
ruling and guiding, and consequently of co-operating with 
reason ; but it is also inclined to enforce its own will, and to 
compel others to obedience, and it frequently degenerates so 
far as to endeavom- to obtain this, if it is not withheld by 
reason. A harmless love of power may indeed be opposed 
by the self-will, the prejudices, or the selfishness of some, 
but is also supported in its efforts to forward the reasonable, 
by the clearer insight and the goodwill of others; evil is 
promoted by the servile spirit of many, and even receives 
assistance from those who expect to be rewarded, when they 
submit to be tools to the will of the ambitious ; it not only 
meets with opposition from aU the malicious hindrances it 
has itself opposed to virtue, but also from an inward sense of 
right and spirit of independence in mankind. A strong love 
of power, if not sufficiently controlled, is sure to commit 
much error along with the good that it performs, but it is 
easy to perceive that the forces which assist good actions are 
in conformity with reason, and cannot, consequently, contain 
anything which must of necessity be destroyed by time ; 
whereas the forces which assist evil actions are opposed to 
reason, and therefore are in mutual contradiction both with 
one another and with all other existing objects. A vigorous 
power of ruling is a centre of strength, from which proceed 
various effects, w^hich are more entirely subordinate to the 



124 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF EEASON. 

ruling spirit the nearer they approach it in time and space ; 
but depart from it and submit to foreign influences the 
farther they are removed from the centre of action. It is of 
course understood that these decisions are only the most 
general and prominent features, and that there must be many 
apparent exceptions, for which it would be difficult to account, 
but much will be cleared up if we divide our general example 
into some smaller branches. One of the strongest expres- 
sions of the thirst for power, is well known to be the desire 
of conquest : it will not diminish the force of those principles 
which we now wish to bring forward if we acknowledge that 
a thirst for power is not the only motive for conquest, but 
that a desire for honour also operates with many other 
influences. The conqueror will not easily accomplish much 
if he does not meet with a slackness and remissness in other 
countries which requires rousing and regulating forces, and 
this the spirit of conquest brings along with it. It is true 
that more or less confusion and destruction accompanies the 
new order of things, but the operations of freedom here 
resemble those of nature, as in spite of aU dissimilarities they 
must equally work in accordance with the fundamental laws 
of existence ; if the conquest degenerates into a long oppres- 
sion, the very pressure and injustice of the deed rouses an 
energy which is requisite to throw off the yoke, and then the 
people come out renovated and refreshed from the struggle. 
Or the predominating power may not encounter a corre- 
sponding opposition, and then the victors form a new people 
in the land, who adopt the most serviceable part of the 
older forces of the country. The useful forces which the 
victor has roused, both among his own people and in the 
conquered nation, and the good laws and ordinances which 
he introduces, will long endure ; while that which is pre- 
judicial to the world will sink beneath all the opposing 
forces which it must awaken. We must, however, bear in 
mind, that centuries form but short periods in the history of 
the human race. 

Despotism, it is well known, almost always accompanies a 
thirst for conquest, but it may exist independently ; it 
flourishes only where the mental faculties of the nation in 
general are either not sufficiently developed, or are weakened 
by false training. In the latter case, despotism may last a 
long time ; but if the people themselves have not sufficient 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 125 

energy to overcome the oppression, foreign powers will 
accomplish it sooner or later. 

Before I proceed, I must remove one objection, which, 
viewed from a finite ground, is insurmountable, but which 
loses all its weight when seen from a point whence the whole 
question may be sm-veyed at once. Looking only on the 
finite view, we may argue, what does it avail the in- 
numerable beings who suffer perhaps both mentally and 
bodily, possibly during life, that the misfortunes which 
oppress them here wdll be explained in a higher order of 
things ? This objection is an old one, and so is the answer, 
but the argument is repeatld whenever any one endeavoura 
to exhibit the reasonable order of human affairs, and on that 
account the answer must also be repeated each time, and 
especially because every time it becomes more obvious. Above 
ill things, we must remember tlie present explanation does 
Qot pretend to offer any additional proof of that agreement of 
Bxistence with our conceptions of perfection, which is partly 
Founded on the sensational perceptions, and partly on one- 
sided reflection. We will merely maintain this important 
truth, that all which is contrary to reason, will in the end be 
resolved into the eternal activity of reason in existence, and 
that the harmony of reason must conquer. We have only 
to add that objects may exist, which though they themselves 
ire in conformity with reason, may yet possibly, during a 
:iertain period of time, be opposed to the general order of 
reason, and consequently must sink, that they may again arise 
it the proper season. 

We must further remind the inquirer that no system, 
nerely taken from a finite point of view, has yet been dis- 
covered, in which evil, whether physical or moral, has been 
represented as destroyed and resolved into good ; for this we 
nust point to a duration of life beyond this mortal existence, 
md our powers of comprehension cannot dispense even with 
:his advantage. The belief in such a continuous life is indeed 
latural to us, as will be proved in the sequel. Here we only 
lold fast to the reasonable connection of aU things, whether 
t may flatter or disappoint our desires. 

We must stiU farther remember that all finite existence is 
nfinitely small in comparison with the whole ; and although 
>ome of the effects of the abuse and error of free-will may 
.^xtend through centuries, and even thousands of years, still 



126 AXL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

the proportion remains infinitely small. No one can deny 
this truth, but it will perhaps animate and invigorate our 
knowledge, if it is explained by an example which is offered 
to us by our globe. Without going farther back than where 
we may be guided by facts which have been clearly proved, 
we perceive that our earth must have existed some thousand 
years before the creation of any organic beings, that more 
thousands of years must have elapsed during which there was 
nothing but barren vegetation and soft-bodied animals, that 
at a still later period there was a succession of eras, each 
commencing at the downfall of the preceding one; every one 
of these periods made a fresh step in development, tiU at 
last man appeared. What is all the time during which man 
has existed, compared to these immeasurable series of thou- 
sands of years ? What again are the individual epochs in 
the human race in comparison with the whole period of its 
existence, without even including the time which is still to 
come ? yet we have only taken our own globe as an example ; 
the universe exhibits far longer divisions of time. 

The development of the human race has been similar to 
that of the globe, in spite of the usurpations of free will ; 
which have apparently but a small influence on the course of 
nature. I have heard it maintained by some theologians who 
had been misguided by the literal comprehension of some 
passages in the Bible, that death entered the world with sin, 
but nature clearly proves this is a misinterpretation, by the 
evident traces of death, destruction, and pain, before the 
existence of the human race on earth ; and at the same time 
all researches into the nature of the human body show, that 
by its original construction, it bears the stamp of mortality. 

We must therefore conclude from aU that has been said, 
that the human race develops itself according to the laws of 
reason, that the series of changes which take place, in spite 
of many alternations from progressive to retrogade move- 
ments, are still an actual development, and that the usurpa- 
tions of free-will, notwithstanding apparently disturbing 
influences, must obey the eternal order of Reason. We may 
add to this, that human reason perpetually develops greater 
depth of knowledge and more distinct views, and thus is 
armed with greater power to avoid mistakes. In short, we 
may happily rest assured, that all those entanglements which 
befall the human race, and which seem somewhat threatening 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 127 

at the present time, cannot prevent us from perceiving that 
the race of man more and more approaches the realisation of 
a kingdom of reason upon earth, though of course subject to 
thoselimitations which must accompany a finite existence. 

We return to survey once more the reciprocal influence of 
reasonable creatures on earth. The mental development 
to which every inhabitant of earth is subject, is the united 
eflPect of his own action, and the influence of the surrounding 
world, in which his fellow- creatiu'es usually occupy the most 
essential portion. No single man could have developed all 
the knowledge and learning which the human race as a whole 
has produced ; indeed, human life is not long enough to ac- 
compHsh such a task. The highest degree of mental cultiva- 
tion which a man can reach is the capability to penetrate 
thoroughly a limited circle of knowledge, and by aid of the 
intellectual development thence attained, joined to an eager 
love of inquiry, to gain a tolerably clear image of the whole 
of existence. With respect to much which he is not able to 
acquire by his own investigations, he must rely on that of the 
rest of the human race ; he must receive the information as 
a gift from that reason which pervades the whole of existence. 
It is a light which permits him to perceive that which is con- 
cealed in the fathomless depths of his own being. His 
apprehension and acquii-ement is, in that case, a faith. This 
expression must however be understood with more or less 
meaning, and we must only use it in the latter sense as con- 
nected with those truths which relate most intimately to the 
essential principle of our existence. We cannot draw any 
defined limits here ; for the higher a man has raised himself 
to a really true and natural mental development, so much 
the more means has he at his disposal to strengthen his belief 
in truth ; he is indeed often enabled, by this, to change that 
into knowledge which must remain faith in others ; and even 
where he is forced to abide by faith alone, he can raise it to 
greater distinctness and power by confirming himself in the 
remaining truths which he is conscious of. In all our mental 
efforts, we must endeavour, if we would not wander from the 
right path, to preserve our natural love of truth in its entire 
purity ; for our inclinations often tempt us to adopt that 
which flatters them, for truth. Amidst the temptations 
which most easily gain ground among those who would be 
: teachers and guides of the human race, is the pleasiu'e of 



128 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF EExVSON. 

saying sometliing extraordinary to our fellow-creatures, some- 
tliing which draws admiration on the speaker. 

All the distinct and simple truths in man, as we have seen, 
are revelations of Eternal Reason. He therefore who discovers 
and declares them, is so far an instrument in the hands of 
God. In as much as the revealed truth is higher, more com- 
prehensive, and more exalting, it is proportionately super- 
natural in comparison with that finite condition which at a 
lower estimate is exclusively called Nature, although it is 
perfectly natural in the eternal nature of God. One external 
sign of the exalted nature of this revelation is the vastness of 
its operation ; vast, let it be observed, not merely by its great 
extension through the world, but in the amount of the effect 
which it produces in the human race itself — the improvement, 
the exaltation, the nearer approach to God, of which mankind 
thus becomes conscious. 

The chief intention of what has been said of the relative 
conditions of free will was to show that all the free beings on 
earth are intended to form a kingdom of reason ; and that this 
is a natural consequence of the plan of nature now existing, 
but which yet must be carried to greater perfection by a 
continued development : all that I have said beyond this 
was merely added to prevent misunderstandings. It is easy 
to apply this now to the rational inhabitants of other 
worlds ; they are formed according to the same laws as the 
inhabitants of our globe, they must therefore be mortal in 
the same sense as men ; they must all, in conformity with 
their existence, have a commencement in their own appointed 
time and place ; they must be subject to the impressions of 
their surrounding world, and, therefore, be conscious of w^hat 
conciliates or opposes their wills, that is, they must feel 
pleasure and displeasure ; they must begin their sensational 
existence with a capacity for reasoning, and must feel them- 
selves impelled to develop this as well by natural inclination, 
as by the rousing influence of the surrounding world. Every 
other free being must receive impressions, some in opposition 
to the will and inclinations, and others agreeing with them. 
The contest with the rebellious will must develop laws of 
will which do not indeed absolutely compel, as the laws of 
nature, but at the same time demand that certain maxims of 
reason should be realized bj^ independent efforts. They can 
no more all be created with equal capacities than mankind 



ALL EXISTLXCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 129 

on our p:lobe, for the existence of every individual begins 
imder different conditions of time and space. Thus, as on 
our earth, the most hii^hly gifted will there also form a ladder 
for their fellow-creatures, of greater or less compass according 
to the capacity of each. They must feel that they are urged 
by a common natural impulse, and by a common need, to 
conquer the acts of involuntary natm-e, by common desire to 
comprehend existence and to act in common ; in short, the 
])rincipal features in their mental being must accord with 
that which we recognize in all free natures on earth. 

When we have gained a clear conception of this essential 
unity in the moral world, we may ventm-e, though ver^? 
cautiously, to make an attempt to develop still further this 
fundamental view. We may be easily led, in such an 
attempt, to transfer the peculiarities of our own earth to the 
rest of existence. When I spoke of the essential imity of the 
faculty of the understanding, that which I said of the possible 
wide distribution of dilFerent forms of existence, although 
possessing one fundamental nature, may also be applied to 
this. Let us only remember the various stages of develop- 
ment in which we find the human mind, owing to the 
different conditions of existence on our earth. But what are 
these dissimilarities of condition when compared to those 
which exist in all the planets I amidst those innimierable 
worlds there is eveiy possible dissimilarity with regard to 
age, light, radiation, 6cc. Our tolerably exact knowledge of 
the dissimilarity of these conditions is Kmited to an inex- 
pressibly small part of the whole ; its application, therefore, 
to the results of those intellectual forms of existence which 
are determined, must be still more limited. The variety in 
the nature of the j^lanets of our own system is very great, 
but if we extend our thoughts over the whole universe the 
ihfferences are endless. On some planets the creatures may 
possibly be on a far larger scale, on others far smaller than 
oui- own ; on some, perhaps, they are formed of less solid 
matter, or may. indeed, approach the transparency of Gether, 
or, on others again, be formed of much denser matter. The 
rational creatures on some of the planets may be capable of 
receiving far quicker, more acute, and more distinct impres- 
sions than on the earth, and on others it may be quite the 
contrary. If we now turn to the mental forces and mental 
development we cannot acknowledge less variety ; we may 



130 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF BEASON. 

imagine that there are reasonable beings with weaker faculties 
than ourselves, but if we properly appreciate our present 
distance from the aspirations of our reason w^e feel compelled 
to acknowledge that an endless number of degrees of develop- 
ment may exist above the point we l^axe reached. Yet we 
must not be depressed wdth this reflection. Our race is still 
in its youth on earth, and seems to have a long futurity in 
prospect for higher development, and we may venture to 
hope that those who have fulfilled their appointed path on 
earth in the season which was allotted them, may yet have an 
opportunity elsewhere to rise to a still higher summit. 



On the Intercommunication which exists between the Planets. 

We have seen that the inhabitants of our planet possess 
some knowledge of the condition of other planets. With 
regard to the moral government of other planets, we limited 
ourselves to prove that the essential principle on which it 
rests must be similar to ours ; but to say anything determinate 
of the peculiarities which each may separately enjoy, is beyond 
our powder. We were less limited as to our knowledge of the 
natural laws ; we can determine the period occupied by a 
year on each of the planets in our system : and on those best 
known to us we can pronounce the length of their days, their 
solar and lunar eclipses, the velocity of falling bodies, the 
path described by projected bodies, their density, the amount 
of light which they receive from the sun, &c. Just as we are 
able to know this of other planets, w^e must suppose that the 
inhabitants of other worlds are capable of understanding our 
condition. The inhabitants of those worlds who possess higher 
faculties than ourselves, or who have made greater progress, 
may naturally know more of the condition of our planet than 
we are able to know of them ; but we shall not remain content 
with the knowledge we at present possess of the condition of 
other planets. We will transport ourselves in thought three 
hundred years back, before the knowledge of the Copernican 
system was spread. What would then have been said of any 
one who could have imagined the truths of other worlds at 
that time unknown, but of whose existence we are now cer- 
tain ? What would have been said of him who believed that 
the planets were worlds like our own, with periodical years 



ALL ilXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 131 

and days? What would have been thought of him who 
could have prophesied that a time would come when moun- 
tains would be discovered in the moon, their height measm-ed, 

. &C., &c., and that maps of such exactitude would be taken 

' of that side of the moon which is turned towards us, that in 
some respects they surpass those we possess of the surface of 

; the globe ? What woiild have been thought of him who ven- 
tured to maintain that the fixed stars were distant suns, of 
which many must be much larger than our own sun ? Would 

' they not have been regarded as dreamers ? No, we may say, 
not by all. Some few even in ancient times participated in 
tills knowledge, although not supported by aU the reasons 
which we now possess to prove its truth. Certainly a few 
recognised it, but hardly one in a million ; the great mass, 
even among the enlightened, ridiculed these dreamy thoughts, 
so far beyond the customary range of knowledge. Must we 

' not expect this to happen in the present times, under similar 

' conditions ? We cannot wholly escape it, though perhaps we 
may expect milder treatment, after the greater experience we 

' now possess of the power with which discoveries occasionally 

• overleap the boimdaries which formerly were deemed the 
extreme limits of human knowledge. No one will deny that 
we are still far removed from that knowledge of the structure 
of the universe which it is possible for us to attain. If we 
consider the constant addition to our means of discovery, and 
how one branch of science supports and strengthens another, 

' we are then sensibly impressed that the limits of knowledge 
are still far distant. Tycho Brahe neither possessed the tele- 
scope, the astronomical clock, nor the micrometer. Even a 
century after his time telescopes were very imperfect instru- 
ments when compared to those we owe toDollond and Herschel, 
and these again have been far surpassed, especially by those 
which Frauenhofer and his successors have produced. Clocks 
and metrical instruments have been brought to such per- 
fection, that they seem nearly to reach the limits of what is 
attainable ; but astronomers are endeavouring, and with jus- 
tice, to aim at something still higher, because they know that 
even this small attempt might yet lead to much which would 
otherwise be unattainable. Science has received great support 

' in another way by the immense increase in the number of her 
labourers, and from the far more perfect foundation of know- 
ledge from which they start. Finally, astronomy has been 

k2 



132 ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 

very miicli aided by the progress of other branches of natural 
science ; thus geology, for example, has enabled us to form 
conclusions as to the internal structure of the planets ; our 
increasing acquaintance with the magnetism of the globe gives 
us a prospect of understanding that of the other worlds. The 
constant progress in our knowledge of the nature of light and 
heat will in time make us acquainted with a variety of con- 
ditions hitherto concealed on distant planets. Yes, it is pos- 
sible that at a very distant period, vre may attain such an 
accurate knowledge of the organic laws of our globe, that 
some of this knowledge may be applied to the organizations 
existing in other worlds. I know the chasm is immense, but 
in the meanwhile we must consider what wonderful progress 
has been made in our knowledge of the laws which govern the 
animal creation during the last half century. The connection 
which subsists between the present animal kingdom and that 
which disappeared in the course of several thousand years, 
and the unity of the laws by which we can comprehend thera, 
give us hopes that one day Ave shall be able to point out the 
conditions under which the animal and vegetable kingdoms 
have been successively developed, as well as the conditions 
under which certain forms might exist which have never yet 
been realized. It is indeed true, that from our present know- 
ledge to the Ivuowledge of organic beings on distant planets, 
v/here not only there may, but there must exist entirely diffe- 
rent matter from that on our earth, there is apparently a gap 
which cannot be filled ; but Chemistry alone will in time teach 
us general laws for the formation of matter, by which we shall 
be enabled to form conclusions of what happens in other 
worlds. 

We, therefore, hope in this world to be continually gaining 
more and more knowledge which will give us a much deeper 
insight of what happens on distant planets and at the same 
time will enlarge the sympathies of our spiritual existence 
with the whole of the Universe. If we now imagine that the 
same thing happens on other planets with regard to us, we 
must perceive that there is an arrangement in finite existence 
by means of which one part of the universe may comprehend 
the other by its mental faculties ; that, consequently, each 
essential portion of the universe may recognize the whole ; 
even that every one may possess a knowledge of the Knowledge, 
the Faith, and the Recognition of a God in other worlds ; in 



ALL EXISTENCE A DOMINION OF REASON. 133 

short, that the whole of existence is not alone, by origin and 
by the guidance of the eternal, all-powerful Reason, a kingdom 
of reason, but that there is a disposition towards a community 
of reason in the finite thinking being itself, a disposition 
which, among the inhabitants of the earth, has hitherto only 
reached a certain degree of that development which is de- 
sired, but which, probably, has already reached far higher 
perfection in some other parts of existence. It therefore 
follows from the nature of things, that we may say, in the 
most comprehensive meaning of the expression, that the 
whole of Existence is a kingdom of Reason. 



THE CULTIVATION OP SCIENCE 

CONSIDERED AS AN EXERCISE OF RELIGION. 



A7i Address delivered at the Festival of the University comine- 
morating the Lutheran Reformation^ 1814. 

I have been induced to print this short address, because it includes 
many of the ideas which are more fully developed in other parts of this 
book, and also as it enables me, from its brevity, to place their unity in 
a stronger light. In everything essential, I have printed it as it was 
originally delivered, since it may be useful to compare the views of an 
author on subjects closely related, which have been written during a 
period of thirty -five years. I must observe, mth respect to that part of 
the address which is specially applicable to the circumstances under which 
it was delivered, that the festival was formerly not only, as at present, a 
commemoration of the religious improvement and the reforms of the 
University, under Christian 111., but it also commemorated the inaugura- 
tion of the new academicians. The speech was delivered in the Latin 
language; I, however, communicated it in Danish, in Moibeck's Athense 
for February, 1815. 

By the laws of our learned society the task has devolved 
upon me to-day, to recall to your minds the happy revival of 
the true faith in our country. However beautiful and 
inspiring this subject is I should still shrink from it, conscious 
how much I am wanting in the gift of eloquence and in the 
practice of public speaking, if a holy duty did not urge me to 
come forward. This duty, however, secures me the most 
indulgent sentence from you, so that here, as elsewhere, the 
consciousness of doing right gives the courage to perform it. 

When under the influence of religious gratitude men meet 
together to celebrate the establishment of the empire of truth, 
it seems to me we should remind one another that this empire, 
although in itself eternal and indestructible, may be lost to 
us if we do not watch it ourselves with conscientious zeal, for 
man is continually in dread of his own weakness. No sooner 
is one error overcome than another, which we imagined was 



THE CULTIYATIOX OF SCIENCE. 135 

buried in oblivion, rises up again, and human nature is so 
feeble and so fickle that most people turn directly from the 
extreme of one en*or to the extreme of the other, which 
formerly was the object of their hatred and contempt ; and 
pass over the firm centre of truth, despising that pui-e light 
from which, nevertheless, all the glittering colours of error 
have borrowed their lustre. Suppose, for instance, there was 
a period in which the development of Science was hindered 
by the foolish idea that it endangered faith and piety, many 
would not become conscious of this eiTor without falling into 
the opposite fearful opinion that Religion, as the eternal 
enemy of Reason, must be extirpated ; but hardly would the 
adherents of these opinions become ashamed of their godless 
frenzy, than the previous dread of science would be again 
expressed, and partly, indeed, by the very same people who, 
formerly, clung zealously to the opposite eiTor. 

We pity those only for theu' own sakes who allow them- 
selves to be blown about hither and thither by the gust of 
every opinion : but, for the sake of mankind, we bewail the 
many excellent youths who with enthusiasm for everything 
noble and good, have not yet surveyed the world and its 
opinions in a true light, and who only resign themselves to 
the one error because they so keenly feel the enormity of the 
other. It is this distrust of reason, that light which God has 
given us, which has latterly led away so many people, and 
.some of them noble minds, to exchange the freedom of 
Lutheran Christianity for the priestly servitude of the Romish 
Church, an error whose existence happily we may principally 
seek for from abroad, though we have sufficient grounds at 
home to oblige us to to strive earnestly against it. 

Under such circumstances it will not be foreign to our 
purpose if, called ujDon by the solemnities of this day, we 
endeavour to establish our conviction of the harmony that 
subsists between religion and science, by showing how the 
man of scie?ice must look upon his pursuits, if he understands 
them rightly, as an exercise of religion. 

If my purpose here was merely to show that science neces- 
sarily engenders piety. I should appeal to the great truth 
everywhere recognized that the essence of all religion consists 
in love towards God. The conclusion would then be easy that 
love of Him from whom all truth proceeds, must create the desire 
to acknowledge truth in all her paths, but as we desii'e here to 



136 THE CULTIVATION OF SCIENCE 

recognize science itself as a religious duty, it will be requisite 
for us to penetrate deeper into its nature. It is obvious 
therefore that the searching eye of man, whether he regards 
his own inward being, or the creation surrounding and 
encompassing him, is always led to the Eternal Source of 
all things. In all inquiry the ultimate aim is to discover that 
w^hich really exists, and to contemplate it in its pure light, 
apart from all that deceives the careless observer by only a 
seeming existence. The philosopher will then comprehend 
what, amidst ceaseless change, is the Constant, the Uncreated, 
which is hidden behind unnumbered creations, the bond of 
union which causes things not to fall apart in spite of their 
manifold divisions and separations. He must soon acknow- 
ledge that the independent can only be the constant, and the 
constant the independent, and that true unity is inseparable 
from either of these. And thus it is in the nature of thought 
that it finds no quiet resting-place, no pause, except in the 
Invariable, Eternal, Uncaused, All-causing, All-comprehensive 
Omniscience. 

But if this one-sided view does not satisfy him, if he seeks 
to examine the world with the eye of experience, he perceives 
that all those things of whose reality the multitude feel most 
assured, — the Material, — never have an enduring existence, 
but that they are always on the road between birth and death. 
If he then asks himself where the Constant is, reason and 
experience answer in one voice, that it is only in the powers 
which produce things, and in the laws by which they work ; 
the powers resolve themselves into one fundamental power 
which expresses itself in two opposite ways, and, on a closer 
investigation the laws appear as the one reason which 
pervades and governs all Nature. If he now properly com- 
prehends the whole harmony of Nature, he perceives that it is 
not merely an idea, or an abstract notion, as it is called, but 
that reason and the power to which everything is indebted 
for its essential nature is only the revelation of a self-sustain- 
ing, living Omniscience. The Constant in nature is derived, 
therefore, from the eternal, self-sustaining Being ; the indica- 
tions of life, from that which possesses life ; the connectioa 
and harmony of the whole, from the only perfect wisdom. 
How can he, when he sees this, be otherwise animated than 
by the deepest feelings of humility, of devotion, and of love ? 
If any one has learnt a different lesson from his observation 



AS AN EXERCISE OF RELIGION, 137 

of Nature, it could only be because he had lost his vray 
amidst the dispersion and variety of creation, and had not 
' .^ked upwards to the eternal unity of truth. 

If we now attempt to soar aloft upon the wings of the 
spirit which, feeble though they be, were yet given to 
mortals to raise them from the dust ; if we venture, although 
with a deep feeling of our immense inferiority, to raise our 
eyes towards the All-perfect One, that we may penetrate as 
far into his Being as is permitted to our limited faculties, 
three fundamental attributes or principles present themselves- 
to us. 

His Indejyendence ; how he essentially originates from, and 
relies upon himself; this as the incomprehensible foundation 
must be first named. Inseparable from this is his Activiti/, 
which, differently expressed, may be called his life, whor,c 
essential nature is this, that through its eternal self-represent- 
ing power it produces itself from eternity. Finally, from both 
of these proceeds the inward Harmony of the whole essence, 
which is not only an attribute, but a living, acting being. 

It will be unnecessary to mention to an enlightened 
audience, that this conception is not merely an adaptation to 
the doctrine of belief now prevalent, but that it has been 
already exhibited in a former age in that philosophy wdiicli 
aspired most earnestly towards the Eternal Being. It is, 
therefore, not borrowed from our holy religion, but has 
received its strength from it ; therefore we may with more 
confidence follow this gleam of light offered to ns by reason. 

From the point of view to which we have raised ourselves, 
we can now understand the deep feeling of something divine, 
by which we are penetrated at the contemplation of the 
Beautiful. We understand this word here in its widest signi- 
fication, in which it at once comprises the Sublime, the 
Inspiring, and the Harmonious. There is that in the Sublime 
which rouses the thought of independence, an idea Avhich is 
not only called forth in our souls by mental determination, 
and by an elevation above all that is little, which the world 
generally values so much, but just as often by the contem- 
plation of material objects, for instance, of a mountain tower- 
ing to the clouds ; of an oak which has braved the storms of 
centuries ; of the ocean which, embracing all countries, en- 
circles the globe ; in short, by objects whose stability, inde- 
structibility, or magnitude, take possession of our souls. 



138 THE CULTIYATION OF SCIENCE 

But the soul will never be carried away by any contempla- 
tion of beauty, unless a mighty creating power of action is at 
the same time revealed. It is only thus that our whole being 
is at once kindled with new warmth of life, and penetrated 
with that divine power which is so truly and so beautifully 
named Enthusiasm and Inspiration. Lastly the Harmonious, 
— which in a more limited meaning of the word is called the 
Beautiful — consists in that impression of a hidden, unfathom- 
able reason which, uncomprehended by the understanding, is 
grasped by the force of the imagination. 

Thus Man is led to God, the Eternal Source of all things, 
whether he may have sought to investigate the essence of 
Truth or Beauty, especially that which necessarily belongs to 
the nature of Existence. 

If he now wishes to know what it is which he must 
freely strive after, the first answer of the natural understand- 
ing of man is, the Good. But he sees men at variance with 
one another, at variance with themselves, in what this much 
desired good consists ; he will soon be aware that almost all 
the good things which we endeavour to obtain in life, are not 
valuable in themselves ; and that those who thoughtlessly 
strive after them, could they be induced to answer connectedly 
what they consider the most important business of life, must 
confess that all outward goods, among which riches take the 
first position in the opinion of the multitude, are only sought 
after for certain ends. These things are therefore not good 
in themselves, but only because they serve for the acquisition 
of a higher good. The thinking man seeks an independent 
good ; — a good that is excellent from its own nature, and not 
from any foreign virtue ; but that which is essentially its own 
is indeed perfect, self-sustaining, independent — is one with 
the Eternal Source of all things — is God himself. 

As everything only so far possesses a reality in as much as 
it participates in the power of the divine naturCj so only thence 
does it derive its true value. To strive after the good is 
therefore only to endeavour to appropriate as much as pos- 
sible of the divine nature. Science tells us, consequently, what 
the friend of religion must desire, that the right way to strive 
after the good is the worship of the Almighty. 

It is easy to perceive that our code of morals, viewed in 
this light, becomes religion, while it is its highest princi])le, 



AS AN EXERCISE OF BELIGIOX. 139 

that with God he/ore ns tee should endeavour to preserve as 
perfectly/ as possible his image in our hearts. 

We imitate the uuconditional Independence of the divine 
nature by the firm determination, never to allow our spii'itual 
being to become the means of attaining a foreign end. 
Here, as everywhere, the firm centre of reason lies between 
two evil, irrational, extreme antitheses : egotism sinks into 
the one, and treats its merely finite character as if it were 
the real self-sustaining power; while those of weaker minds, 
who with a servile spirit yield their wills to the arbitrary 
pui'poses of others, fall into the other extreme. We imitate, 
although feebly, the ceaseless creating power of the divine 
nature, by an activity which endeavours to impress the stamp 
of the spirit upon everything that surrounds us ; to do which 
we must be as far removed from idle inaction, which debases 
mankind, as from an inconsiderate or hurtful waste of power. 
The inward harmony of the divine nature in its indepen- 
dent contemplative existence, is called Reason ; in its activity. 
Love ; but both are essentially inseparable ; the name of both 
in their entire union is Wisdom^ in the highest and most 
comprehensive sense of the word. In this sense Justice also 
belongs to it, which we may define as the recognition of the 
same independence in other rational beings as in ourselves ; 
the Love of our felloic- creatures, vrYio^e, essence consists in 
actively showing that we recognise the image of God in other 
rational beings as much as in ourselves ; Patriotism, which 
unites the two former virtues, considered with reference to the 
harmony of society ; Veneration for Nature, so far as this 
is acknowledged to be the work of infinite wisdom. These 
are the manifestations of wisdom, which relate to the outer 
world. If we turn our attention inwardly, it is evident that 
wisdom must love herself, in her independence, as Truth ; 
in her active principle, as Science and Art ; and in her 
harmony, as a republic of Learning. 

The limits of this address are far too narrow to develop 
this subject, but for our present purpose it is sufficient to 
point out how applicable is the justice of the old saying, that 
truth proceeds from God : and that our love of the Divine 
Being includes a love of science and art, which are only 
acknowledgments and demonstrations of his nature. We 
now perceive that we must endeavour, according to that 
same love, and the love of our feUow-creatures, which 



140 THE CULTIVATION OF SCIENCE 

springs from it, to spread that knowledge still farther to 
vvhose attainment %ye were impelled by love. We can now 
conceive the enthusiasm w4th which the labourers in science 
have risked all that man otherwise holds dear and precious, 
to discover truths whose value could alone be understood by 
the purest love of truth ; and from this point of view nothing 
is more evident than this great experience, that in the earliest 
period of the first development of science, and in its greatest 
2:)urity, it has always been in the closest connection with 
religion, a connection which could only be temporarily in- 
terrupted by w^andering in one or the other direction. 

The laws of art themselves which we make use of in the 
practice of science, that its truths may be fundamentalhj 
proved, clearly explained, and systematically connected, here 
receive a higher signification, so that we may safely maintain 
that it is our true duty, I do not say to attain, but to endea- 
vour to reach, this perfection. The independence of Eternal 
Heason in science is testified by this, that all things are made 
to rest upon the knowledge peculiar to reason, and in such a 
manner, that every truth must be carried to its most imme- 
diate foundation ; that is, that we are not alone contented to 
find one ground of conviction, but we also seek out the true 
foundation for the existence of all things that require 
a proof. The active principle, or the life, w^hich we have 
called the second attribute, is thus preserved, so that truth 
is represented w^ith that clearness which is the actual 
operating power of truth, as it is that of light. Harmony is 
at last attained by truth, through that intimate and justly 
proportioned alliance, w^hich vre would rather call accordance. 
The agreement of perfect reason is again shown w^hen we per- 
ceive how each of these virtues when it has attained perfection 
carries along with it all the others, so that the one cannot be 
thought of without the other ; for if every truth was grounded 
on a correct chain of thought, it would then be clearly 
defined and in its proper position, and in the same manner 
the perfect clearness and the perfect accordance would include 
the other virtues. On the other hand, with our limited 
faculties, we can only attain these virtues in a high degree 
in so far as they are sought in company with the others. 

I was not afraid that you would accuse me of having allowed 
myself to wander too far in a train of thought, when I main- 
tained that the search after perfection in science and in art, 



AS AN EXERCISE OF HELIGION. 141 

^vllicll has been just described, might be designated as an 
exercise of duty. How could I fear this, in such an assembly 
of the worshippers of science ; among whom there are so 
many who have themselves made researches in the higher 
inquiries after truth ? Who, in the development of an im- 
portant succession of truths has not felt it to be a conscien- 
tious duty to himself or to others, to attain that perfection of 
which I have been speaking ? But I repeat it again, that it 
is not possible for the scientific man to attain it, but only to 
wish to attain it. 

But have I not here proved more than I intended ? have I 
not proved by this that all men should be men of science ? 
and have I not thus contradicted an innate feeling, which 
cannot be opposed wdthout subjecting all the conclusions I 
have arrived at, after many reflections and conclusions, to 
suspicion ? My answer how^ever is easy, for misapprehension 
alone could thus explain my words. We have seen, that from 
the position we have chosen, there are many duties incum- 
bent on all men, though in very different degrees, and each 
with regard to the particular situation in life which he may 
hold ; for the maintenance of mental independence requires 
that each man should choose a particular sphere of action, 
and his feeling for the harmony of the whole bids him select 
that one by which he can most contribute to the perfection 
of the whole. 

Whilst therefore most people labour in various directions 
to impress the stamp of reason on the material world sur- 
rounding them, and others exert their powers to maintain 
social independence, inward activity, or harmony, the real 
labourer in science chooses knowledge as his highest aim. A 
love of knowledge, which some are frequently obliged to 
place secondary to other duties, with the man of science must 
be the occupation of his life ; he is destined to nourish the 
holy flame of wisdom, which shall diffuse its rays amidst the 
rest of mankind ; it is his nightly lamp which shall enlighten 
the earth. Woe to him if he does not consider his vocation 
to be a voice from heaven. 

Let this feeling of your high calling be deeply impressed 
upon you, my young friends, who to-day are to he received 
as members of our scientific union. It is only the conviction 
that while you devote yourselves to science you are at the 



142 THE CULTIVATION OP SCIENCE. 

same time honouring God, that will enable you constantly to 
preserve the courage and the jpower which your calling re- 
quires, and which you will fruitlessly seek in incentives 
from without. 

Each of you who have deliberately chosen the path of 
science must have felt that riches, whose glitter is so alluring 
to most people, must not be the highest aim of your endea- 
vours ; for it is too evident that this road leads least of all 
towards that idol of dazzled mortals. Many among you will 
perhaj)s find a richer reward in honour, by which I do not 
mean that of the moment, but that which carries a name over 
the waves of time to distant races ; and it is not to be denied 
that in a certain sense we may say, with one of the most 
glorious and most religious poets of the past century, (Jean 
Paul) " that immortal fame is a grand thought, that it is 
worthy of the toil of the noble-hearted." But if the immor- 
tality of a name were not borne up by a higher hope of 
immortality, if it were not an earthly type of an eternal life, 
what would it be but an empty vision, a shadow coming from 
no body, a rainbow without promise, which revealed no 
higher light through the drops of earthly matter. No, my 
friends, nothing but the conviction that our love of knowledge 
is an endeavour after a true reality, and that it is true life, 
and true harmony, can give you a genuine, enthusiastic love 
of wisdom. The conviction that when you dijffuse knowledge 
you are instrumental in the consolidation of God's kingdom 
on earth, can alone give you a true and unalloyed desire to 
lead those around you towards a higher light and higher 
knowledge. 

This, my young friends, is the important vocation for whicli 
you have begun to educate yourselves. Continue your en- 
deavours with holy seriousness, and you w^ill become capable 
of participating in a j oy which the world cannot bestow, and 
your works will be a blessing to your Fatherland ; yes, and 
win confer a benefit on the whole human race. 



THE RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL 
SCIENCE AND POETRY.* 



A booe: which intends to produce a change in the compre- 
hension of the world, usual at the present period, must expect 
opposition ; not alone from him who is unable to alter his 
former mode of thought, but also from many a highly-gifted 
man, who does not feel convinced of the validity of the new 
direction of ideas ; for even should the author have been so 
fortunate as to be in the right in all essential matters, we 
may be sure that in many individual facts we shall find that 
he has not escaped falling into error ; and it is still less pos- 
sible that he can have throughout expressed his thoughts 
with such perfect clearness and with such entire consideration 
of the doubts which might be raised against him, that it shall 
satisfy every reflecting mind. It is a fortunate circumstance, 
not alone for the author, but, what is of still more import- 
ance, for the distribution of truth, when he is openly opposed 
by a highly-gifted, learned, and generally respected man. A 
contest may then be carried on worthy of truth, which be- 
comes important to those who follow the inquiry with atten- 
tion. It is in this sense that I welcome the remarks which 
have been made by my respected friend Bishop Mynster against 
my work, " The Soul in Nature." I shall endeavour to meet this 
critique, which everywhere bears the stamp of the intellectual 
and acute mind of the author, with the most earnest love 
of truth, and with the warmest desire to place all which I 
hold to be truth, in the clearest light. 

There is no doubt that it will be agreeable to my readers, 
if I teU them at once, that there is by no means so much dis- 
agreement between my respected adversary and myself, as he 
imagines. This is especially the case with regard to the 

* The remainder of this volume appeared some months later than the 
preceding papers, and was published in consequence of a criticism made 
on the former part by Dr. J. P. Mynster, Bishop of Seeland, in a 
pamphlet entitled ** Remarks on the Soul in Nature," which has appeared 
in the New Theological Journal, vol. i, p. 291-395.— TV. 



144 THE RELATION BETWEEN 

poetical, which, with a nice sense of what is just, he has 
chosen as the first point of his observations. 

If my comprehension of the world were to produce such 
an effect on poetry as he asrumes, my whole book would, in 
many respects, have a very different meaning than, in fact, 
w^as intended. My views are . stated in the critique already 
cited as follows. — p. 292, 

** The author is of opinion, namely (see p. 71), that the progress of 
Natural Science, ami the universal distribution of the knowledge apper- 
taining to it, has rendered a great number of ideas whicli have been made 
use of by poets, not only useless now, but must also make tliem so in 
future, and drive them back into the poetry of past days; but he also 
considers that science offers a rich compensation to poets for this loss, 
if they will only understand how to appropriate it to themselves." 

The opinion here attributed to me is very far removed from 
that which I in reality hold. This may be perceived in the 
following passage of my own writing. (See p. 72, " There- 
fore natural science," &c., to " past days.") 

From this it will be seen that I was not of opinion that 
natural science ought to render useless a great number of the 
ideas which poets employ ; but, on the contrary, a very small 
portion of them. The words I have quoted are sufficient to 
prove this ; at the same time it might be supposed that in the 
connexion of the whole, it would appear tliat my opinion had 
embraced more than I have here expressed. That such is 
not the case I will now show. The examples which I cited of 
ideas which could seldom be appropriately used in poetry of 
the present day, do not consist in sensational apprehensions, 
but in opinions of things. Not alone the poet, but often the 
orator, indeed not unfrequently the scientific author, may 
employ the purely sensational apprehension of an object. 
This is already shoAvn in the example introduced in the lines 
that have been just referred to of the rising and the setting of 
the sun ; but some further examples will make the case still 
more evident. 

The heavens do not really form an arch, but in conformity 
to the laws of nature, they are exhibited to our external 
senses as an arch, we can therefore make a very extensive 
use of this idea ; but 'the firmament of heaven' refers to a 
view of the heavens as a fixed arch, borne on pillars, &c. 
This is an opinion, and not a purely sensational perception. 

Were any one to assert that the invariability of the heavenly 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POLTrtY. 145 

arch rouses a sensational idea of something; fixed, I would 
remind him that this arch, in the course of ever}- cloudless 
day, exhibits a ^eat variety of form — an entirely different 
one by night than by day ; but \verc he still to maintain his 
opinion, I should be forced to confess that to him my example 
would be useless. The idea that the sky is a fixed arch ap- 
pears to belong to the most ancient times ; at a later period 
it was imagined that there were eight heayens. It appears to 
me that this idea is also the ruling one in the Bible ; yet I 
must obserye that the Hebrew word " rakiah," which is 
translated in our Bible as "firmament,"' according to the 
explanation of competent judges, comes nearest to the meaning 
"extension." 

We are of course not treating here about the correct trans- 
lation of the expression, but on the employment at the pre- 
sent period, of a thought of ancient days. 

If the sensational perception is kept within certain limits, 
we conceiye the surface of the earth to be leyel, and thus, not 
not alone in poetry, but also in many scientific combinations 
of ideas, we may speak of the surface of the earth as if it 
were flat. But if any one says that the earth has four cor- 
ners, they express an opinion, and not a sensational percep- 
tion. The expression may, perhaps, within certain limits, bo 
used to distinguish the four directions of north, south, east, and 
west, but it is hardly ever the most appropriate expression. 

The idea of the foundation of the earth is again an opinion 
and not a perception. We scarcely ever understand by the 
"foundation of the earth" its centre, as is assumed in the 
Remai-ks ; but those who first made use of this expression 
surely meant that the earth rested on a good foundation, like 
a well-built house; if this had not been the meaning, the 
"pillars of the earth" would not be mentioned in different 
passages. At a certain stage in the deyelopment of man, 
this idea, little as it can bear a close examination, is yet per- 
fectly natm-al ; but now, indeed, we are all of one opinion 
that the earth does not rest on any foundation at all. If it 
were said that the expression might still be used, as a sen- 
sational image, I answer, that this may sometimes be the 
: case, but only when we speak to men who are ignorant 
that the freely- moying earth wanders in her path without 
coming in contact with other bodies, or we must speak to 



146 THE HELATION BETWEEN 

those who do not think at all about the matter ; but to a] 
imagination possessed with a living and present image of th 
system of the world, the expression " the foundations of th 
earth," is no better than to talk of the foundation of a well 
suspended lustre, or, if possible, it is still less appropriate. 

All this does not prevent us from discovering the Beau 
tiful and the Sublime in those passages of the Bible, wher 
the thought of the foundation of the earth is employee 
for here it has no reference to the opinion concerning il 
but to the thought that God has given the earth her place 
and preserved her fixed in the same. That the positiov 
assigned to the earth does change, has nothing to do with on 
present question, because it is still God who gives the eart 
her proper place in the heavens. For, indeed, in the sam 
Book of Job, where (in chapter xxxviii, verse 4) God, as i 
were, asks Job, " Where wast thou when I laid the founda 
tions of the earth?" and in verse 6, "Whereupon are th 
foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner-ston 
thereof?" and in chapter xxvi, verse 7, it is said as a proof c 
the greatness of God, that he '^hangeth the earth upo 
nothing." 

This seems entirely to confirm the method I have followe 
in comprehending such passages of the Bible. If we rea 
the Bible rightly, we must transfer ourselves to the time 
there spoken of, and be willing to forget the knowledge else 
where obtained. Yes, we even do this with more worldl 
objects; for instance, we forget the enlightenment whic 
rejects the belief in witches and ghosts, when the poet carri( 
us back to the period or the circumstances to which the 
belong. It is easy to perceive that the preacher may ab 
make use of the old Biblical expressions at the present perio( 
without any danger of being misunderstood; for his audito] 
or readers transfer themselves with him to a time in whic 
later opinions retreat into the shade. 

I will yet add an other example to show how little sciei 
tific knowledge ought to lower our feeling of the exalte 
impression which the Bible gives us of God. When Davi 
says, in Psalm xc, verse 2, "Before the mountains wei 
brought forth, thou art God," the expression is far too sma 
for pure thought ; but for the senses, it has a much mo3 
comprehensive magnitude than many far greater image 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETHY. 147 

David, who has himself so often used grander representa- 
tions, did not consider it too small, because, to our senses, 
almost imprisoned in the finite, it so nearly approaches the 
idea of magnitude. It is impossible to assume that David 
made use of this expression from a want of penetration, for 
besides the far more sublime words to which we have just 
alluded, many other exalted expressions in the Psalms must 
occur to us. No thought was too high for him who says in 
verse 4 of the same Psalm, " For a thousand years in thy 
sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in 
the night." 

From all this it may be seen, that it is not our intention. 
that Science should forbid the Poet to employ real sensa- 
tional expressions, though not scientifically true ; but we 
would only advise that there should be certain limitations in 
the use of such opinions which might have a charm for the 
imagination, but which yet are false. Should my views with 
regard to these limitations not appear clearly defined in the 
whole connection of my book, they will not now, at least, 
after the present explanations, be easily misunderstood ; but 
yet, to be quite secure from a misunderstanding which might 
be greater than would appear at first sight, I will still add some- 
thing more. The Poet, in my opinion, must only so far avoid 
ancient and false opinions which have been adopted in poeti- 
cal language, when he speaks as a man of the present day ; 
and we shall not find these opinions very numerous, if we 
consider that the ideas which are awakened by the imme- 
diate impression of the senses, are by no means classed 
, with them. Science cannot certainly forbid the Poet to make 
. use of these false opinions ; but she may tell him that the 
more true scientific education is spread — which is very dif- 
ferent from strict science — so much the more will these false 
opinions weaken or destroy the character of his work. It 
will also spoil the impression which is produced by such a 
work. Thus, for example, in an intellectual poetical com- 
position, the idea of an evil spirit who is in possession of 
Solomon's ring, and can raise storms and spread wild devas- 
' tation over the earth, and of a good spirit, on the other hand, 
who can produce the opposite efiect, can make no impression 
: on that man who is acquainted with the laws of Nature, 
, because the impossibility of it stands clearly before his face. 

l2 



148 THE RELATION BETWEEN 

It is true, indeed, that in certain poems we submit to the 
greatest impossibilities ; but then we must be carried to a 
world where we entirely forget the Natural ; if Nature herself 
approaches us, the enchantment ceases. 

If I have mentioned some poetical works, in which the 
supernatural and the natural appear to be placed together in 
too great juxtaposition, I willingly grant that it is possible 
that I may be wrong here, although for my own part I retain 
my own opinions ; but I do not here lay so much stress on 
the correctness of this judgment, as on the principle that 
poetry will lose its effect on men who have received a true 
scientific education, if the Supernatural and the Natural are 
placed directly together. 

I have also blamed the daring manner with which some 
poets have caused the Supernatural to appear in opposition to 
the Natural. The way in which Schiller's poem, '• The Gods 
of Greece," has been mentioned in the Remarks, permits me 
to explain this, and many other points in my expressions, 
with regard to the relation of poetry and science. With 
reference to our present object, I divide Schiller's poem, 
"The Gods of Greece," into two parts; the first, and the 
greatest, in which he allows himself to be carried away by 
the glory of the ancient times of Greece ; the second part, 
which comprises the four last stanzas, in w^hich he complains 
of the present time. 

The first part is a glorious inspired expression of a poet's 
tone of thought, in which he resigns himself entirely to the 
beautiful Grecian poetical world, and he is fully justified in 
omitting all that would lead us not to wish those days to 
return. The second part may certainly be viewed as a con- 
tinuation of the same poetical theme ; but here it turns anta- 
gonistically against the present time^ not against its errors 
and mistakes, but against its religion and science. I agree 
with the opinion maintained in the Remarks, that Schiller's 
thought, in the antagonistic expression of the poem against • 
Christianity, was probably directed against a soulless com- 
prehension of the Unity, and the transcendent nature of 
God ; and I must add, that I think it is the same with regard 
to his expressions on the laws of nature ; but it is certain that, 
by the manner in which he has expressed it, he has given 
room for misunderstanding. Let us road the last part : — < 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETRY. 149 

All those blossoms, late so fair, have perisliM, 
Scattered by the North's ungentle blast; 
While one Great Supreme is only cherished. 
And the pageant host of Heaven o'erpast, 
Sadly now I scan the starry cave — 
There no more art thou, Selene, found ! 
Through the woods I call, and through the wave. 
They give back an empty sound. 

All unconscious of the joys she renders, 
Of the spirit that rules her, unaware; 
Heedless of her own surpassing splendours, 
Senseless to the bliss she bids me share ; 
E'en unmindful of her Maker's praise — 
Like the dead beat of the swinging hour, 
Nature, of her gods bereft, obeys 
Slave-like, mere mechanic power. 

To renew at morn her course diurnal, 
Every night she digs her grave profound, 
Whilst encircling moons, in flight eternal. 
Wheel their one unvarying axle round. 
To their home — the realm of song — retiring, 
Have the gods on flagging pinions flown, 
Useless to a world no more requiring 
Other guidance than its own. 

Yes ! they Ve home returned, and with them vanished 

All the beautiful and all the great : 

All sweet hues and tones of life are banish' d, 

And a soulless world usurps their seat. 

Rescued from the flood of time, they hover 

Freely o'er the tops of Pindus high. — 

What shall live in song when life is over, : 

First in mortal life must die.* 

I repeat that the whole poem is to me but the representa- 
tion of a poet's tone of thought. The author of the Eemarks 
also does not appear to wish to lay much stress upon it, 
with the exception of that part where there is an argument 
for the unpoetical in astronomy, but I cannot grant this ex- 
ception. There might, perhaps, be grounds to treat the case 
in such a manner as if it were of more importance, not for 
; the intelligent author of these Kemarks, or for other intel- 
\ ligent men, but for the sake of those who haye neglected to 
! * Translation of Schiller's Mmor Poems, by J. H. Merivale, 1844. 



150 THE EELATION EETWEEN 

acquire a thinking comprehension of the world in connection 
with the cultivation of their poetical faculties. I shall soon 
return to this case, but I will first take notice of one passage 
which permits me to point out an agreement, exactly where 
the Remarks would suppose the contrary. It is said in the 
Remarks, page 314, — 

'' The author has by this work increased the merit which he previ- 
ously had acquired by his theory of the Beautiful. But however justly 
and ingeniously he has proved, that the pleasure which we feel in the 
presence of beautiful forms and sounds, proceeds from a hidden Reason, 
which appeals to us from them, still, this scarcely explains the whole im- 
pression. The connection of Reason, ' the co-operation of a variety of 
natural laws --under one governing unity' (see above, p. 36), may be a 
conditio sine qua non, without which an object cannot give us the plea- 
sure which always accompanies the Beautiful; but the deeper impression 
which the Great Artist places in His work, and by which it appeals to, 
and stirs our whole nature, can scarcely be explained from this alone. 
Not merely the harmony of the artistic work gives us pleasure as rational 
beings, but the imagination of the Artist influences us, and leads the soul 
beyond the narrow limits of the Present ; and the feelings with which the 
breast of the Artist was penetrated when He created his work, rouses 
corresponding feelings in us.^' 

In the praise which has been here conferred upon me, I 
acknowledge with pleasure the agreement that subsists be- 
tween my respected friend and myself; and I am glad to be 
able to show that this is even greater than he thought. This 
may be seen from the following passage from my Dialogue on 
the Fundamental Principles of Beauty, published among the 
papers of the Scandinavian Literary Society for 1808, (see 
page 347, of this volume). Though the question in that 
paper is only of the creative part of music, yet, as a whole, it 
shows that my opinion of the activity of the mind during the 
production of actual poetical works is not opposed to it. 
(See p. 347, from " Do you not think it probable," to p. 348, 
" requiring such a calculation.") 

It is now easy to perceive, that what I understand as the 
activity of the poet's mind, comprises the most entire acknow- 
ledgment of his freedom. The dissimilarity which is dis- 
covered in our comprehension of the relation between human 
and divine freedom lies higher, and belongs to a circle of 
thoughts in which the profoundest thinkers, Christians as 
well as those that are not Christians, have always followed 




NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETRY. 151 

dissimilar paths. All the friends of truth will gratefully 
^yelcome the mind which can throw some light upon this 
point. 

It will no doubt be useful, if in a few words I can com- 
prize the results of the preceding observations. Contrary 
to the conjectures of the author of the Remarks, I agree with 
him in the following points. The poet, with perfect justice, 
creates a supernatural world for himself, in which the imagi- 
nation, and not the understanding, has the mastery. The 
entire freedom with which the imagination acts in the poetic 
world, must not, however, be wild and unbridled, but rather 
should offer a complete world of beauty, whose laws must 
not be transgressed. All nature, as it is pictured to our 
senses, is at the poet's command, notwithstanding that science, 
in many cases, shows that that which to the comprehension 
of our senses seems to exist, is actually entirely different. I 
still hope that he will concur with me in the limits I here 
place, namely, that poetry should not set herself in intentional 
and manifest contradiction with that reality which know- 
ledge points out, and that thus it must not introduce the 
supernatural alternately with the natural, so that the mutual 
contradiction of both should appear in strong colours before 
the imagination. 

That it would hardly be possible for us always to agree in the 
application of individual cases need not be considered here, 
as this is so frequently the case in the application of truths. 

I leave to the author of the Remarks, and to those who 
agree with him, whether the limitations which I have offered 
must not be accepted ; namely, whether opinions which have 
appealed to the imagination of man during centuries, but 
which yet come into collision with an imagination which has 
arrived at a distinct view of a different reality, ought not to 
be avoided in poetical works of the present period, unless 
they take us back to a former age, or remain in a purely 
supernatural world. 

Finally, I think I have sufficiently shown, that I do not 
deny the free activity of the mind during the production of 
beautiful works, but that I rather acknowledge it as a con- 
sequence of my mode of comprehension. I may now pass 
on to the assertions on poetry, in which I cannot agree with 



152 THE KELATION BETWEEN 

the author of the Remarks. I have said, (p. 73,) " Since 
the greatness of science," &c., to '' poetical world." 

I afterwards gave numerous examples in confirmation 
of this, which, however, I must pass over now, but for which 
I refer to my former paper. (See pages 73 to 76.) I must 
the more particularly beg the reader will turn his attention 
to it, as the argument in the Remarks might easily lead 
the thoughts away from what seems to me the most essen- 
tial part of the matter. After I had introduced some expla- 
natory examples in the above-mentioned passage, I found it 
necessary to say, "it is natural," &c^ to "love its admirers." 
(See page 75). 

The Remarks are almost exclusively turned to the question 
of the applicability of astronomy to poetry. In page 294 it 
is said : — 

^* If the Laws of Reason, wliicli through Science we have learnt to 
recognise in the order and movements of the Solar System, were suitable 
matter for poetic treatment, why has it not been so employed, as indeed 
many poets have by no means been deficient in the attainments necessary 
for that object. One great poet has certainly viewed Nature in con- 
formity with * modern knowledge,' and what he saw he has expressed in 
the weU-known lines — 

^ All those blossoms, late so fair, have perished,' &c." 

(See p. 149.) 

While I reserve for a later occasion what I may have to 
say on Schiller's authority, I pause at the thing itself. I am 
misunderstood if I am supposed to be of opinion that the laws 
of the order and movements of the solar system, ought to be 
the subject of a poem; whereas this beautiful order may 
be well exhibited in short poetical strokes of imagination, 
and this, as it seems to me, has not unfrequently happened. 
If I also incline to the opinion, that the laws which have 
been discovered in the system cf the world are not in them- 
selves suitable for a comprehensive poetical representation ; 
still this opinion is by no means in contradiction with the 
thought, that a clear view into the arrangement of the 
system of the world might furnish a motive to a great poetical 
mind for the most glorious poetic themes. 

But why has such a work never appeared? I cannot 
indeed answer this with certainty ; but this I can say, that I 
am not a^\'are that any celebrated poet has possessed the 



NATURAL SCIEXCE AND POETRY. 153 

distinct information necessary for it. If ^ve must consider 
the poetical condemnation of astronomy before-mentioned as 
seriously intended, I should be obliged to say that Schiller 
clearly showed that he mistook the skeleton for the whole body. 
How much astronomical knowledge he possessed I will leave 
undetermined, but every one will perceive, if but reminded of 
it, that during the composition of his poetry all that he pos- 
siblv might have known of the organic beauty of the solar 
system, and of the probability, almost bordering on certainty, 
of the existence of rational beings on other planets, lay far 
removed from his consciousness. Above all, we may remark 
in the argument here contended for, that the deep reason 
which science during her progress has always more and more 
discovered in Nature, has been only latterly comprehended 
in such a connected manner that it appears to us as a whole ; 
and not merely in an ideal sense, but as a whole which is 
intimately bound up with the manifest operations of Nature. 
In short, the Spiritual in nature has never been so revealed by 
expermental natural science as in our own century. I must 
mentim the author of '•' '^'' Heiny^ich von Ofterdingen^'' as a glo- 
rious example of the powers to seize and to represent this 
spirit. One of his miner's songs admirably exhibits the loving 
and corfidential intimacy with nature, in the higher-educated 
miner ; another depicts in a more strange manner, but yet 
with thmght and truth, the relation of man to the hidden 
powers aid treasures of the mountain, and in many passages 
where the stanza does not indicate the poetical comprehension, 
this romaice gives us glorious poetical representations of the 
internal hstory of the globe. His song to wine, gives us a 
beautifid petical picture of the process of fermentation. In 
this way ht far anticipated the comprehensive spirit of his 
period. Goethe, w^ho joined to his great poetic spirit a true 
insight into nany branches of science, with a mind fitted for a 
thinking coaprehension of Nature, has represented in his 
poem " The Metamorphoses of Plants," the spirit of the 
doctrine w^hid as naturalist of the w^orld he had proposed 
on the same ubject; his poem on Howard's comprehension 
of the forms f clouds deserves also to be mentioned. In 
many other parages of his writings we meet with poetical 

* Friedrich voi Hardenberg, better known by his literary name 

Novalis. 



154 THE RELATION BETWEEN 

comprehensions of those conditions in Nature, which he had 
regarded in a scientific light, and which only needed the form 
of verse to be recognized by all, to be what they really are. 
Had it not been that that great poet entirely misunderstood 
mathematical physics, perhaps misled by the one-sided 
manner of representation of certain philosophers, he would 
probably have done much more for the poetical representation 
of the views of Nature. But I should say far too little of 
Goethe, as a poet who was enlightened and guided by a 
thinking comprehension of Nature, if I merely noticed the 
poems in which his science appears most forcibly. What 
other German poet has shown himself such a thorough 
observer of Nature? Even in his delineations of men we 
see that he gave a character to the being created by his own 
poetical imagination, which the profound observer could alone 
have given. This great man, with his comprehensive science 
and knowledge of the world, was in truth a poet of Nature, 
taking the word in the full extent in which I used it in my 
condemned book ; he therefore has made far less use of the 
poetic garb of past days than most other poets, but furnished 
himself with means direct from Nature herself. It is ea^y to 
perceive that I understand by the poetic dress of past days 
the tenor of the "poetic inventions" which past timcFhave 
left behind. I do not attempt to deny that it has beer often 
used by the great poets with true and masterly skill but I 
think that poets would exercise a far higher influence if they 
did not so frequently take refuge in it. Goethe was prfectly 
conscious of his nature-loving poetic imagination arl of his 
poetic love of nature, and expressed this, amoig other 
passages, in the following epigram — 

Is botany — are optics thy vocation ? What doest thov? 
Is it not greater gain to move one tender heart ? 
Ah, tender hearts ! a fool can on them play. 
Be mine the joy alone to touch thy chords, O Natur'! 

I certainly trace the expression of a poetic ^^lim. in the 
distinct T)ne-sidedness of this declaration, but tak that away, 
and it reminds us of his true love of an insight i^nto Nature, 
of which besides his writings in themselves bar the most 
evident proofs. I do not venture to bring or ward more 
examples lest I should choose such whose valu' might be less 
acknowledged ; but at all events I must repe-t what I have 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETRY. 155 

already said, that it is only from the future that we must 
xpect the comprehensive and poetical application of an 
msight into Nature. 

I now again return to the poem of Schiller so frequently 
mentioned, and venture to bring forward one passage from 
my earlier writings in which I have attempted, in a poetical 
form, to counteract the impression of this poem, and many 
poetical attacks on our century and its science, which have 
been produced by misapprehension. 

To understand it properly I must mention that the fol- 
lowing is a fragment from my poem '' The Balloon," in which 
I attempt to depict the spirit of discovery, in one poetically 
comprehended event, or in a series of events. The scene of 
of the conversation lies in Samos, where there is a promon- 
tory which points to Icaria, and reminds us of the unfortunate 
attempt of Icarus to fly, well known from the legends of 
poets. 

The Characters are : — 

Ernest, a German Antiquarian, 

Frankman, a German Naturalist. 

Calchas, an Athenian, who has been educated in Germany, 

Then gladly Ernest spoke, for he was vexed 

At former interruption of his words : 

** A nation*s worth is not by lavish wealth, 

Nor e'en by power, or numbers, to be measured ; 

The well- skilled labour of the swarming bees 

"Wins not the prize ; theirs not the noblest end ; 

Ripeness alone, and energy of life 

Can be the measure of a nation's worth. 

And how displayed to him who takes delight 

In greatness ? Solely, in the arts divine, 

And self-ennobling efforts — all may see 

The glory of great Hellas ; she who stands 

Upon the pinnacle of art, and verse 

Inspiring to high deeds. Where lives the sage 

^^Tio would not to the Past award the palm ? 

Then had man reached in fresh and youthful prime 

Life's highest summit. Art, and chivalry, 

And tales of love sung in a later age, 

Their shadows ; for th' impoverished Present 

Nought then remains, but strife and learned lore 

And the sad story of State Policies. 

Eden has passed from earth and left us here 

A weary hermitage of misery." 



156 THE RELATION BETWEEN 

Then Frankman rose and met their looks expectant. 

<* Well hast thou said, if nrtions should be judged 

By energy of life in them displayed ; 

If, then, thou seekst the stamp of life alone 

In beauty^ or adornments, such as add 

A charm to make life brighter, surely thou 

Hast, with a dazzled eyesight, life beheld: 

For he alone can form a judgment true 

Who does not fix his eye upon one object 

Of shining splendour, but with vision large 

Embraces the great whole, while carefully 

Each separate part he views. — Upon thy lips 

Already I perceive the impatient word ; 

Eeauty, thou wilt assert, does of itself 

Comprise a whole; but Science, Virtue, Faith — 

Each, I maintain, are as complete as Beauty. 

If, to our mortal sense, it were allowed 

Truth to behold, entire, and undisguised, 

We then should live in Beauty, and our faith 

To perfect vision changed, our virtue be 

Divine ; Faith perfected, would Knowledge hold. 

And Art, and Virtue, and all heavenly things 

In her embrace. But here, all that is great 

Is but as piece-work, which to comprehend, 

The parts must first be known. If justly, then, 

The merits of all ages thou would'st try, 

Let thy far- searching eye wander around 

The wide domain where life its power declares ; 

Never before was there a time so rife 

With thought, that moves in all life's varied scenes, 

Piercing each channel of man's social being. 

As this, which thou with so much scorn hast named 

' Th' impoverished Present.' From sublimest search. 

Into the source of Thought, or after suns 

Whose light illumines worlds beyond our ken. 

Or into laws which here in silence rule 

Great Nature's mysteries concealed from man, 

Down to the labourer, who his daily bread 

Earns by hard toil and sweat upon his brow. 

The Spirit of Invention lives and moves ; 

Thought, ever active, works in each and all. 

I will not pause to speak of deeds of fame, 

Of glory won by warrior and by prince. 

Since such alike have ev'ry age adorned ; 

But turn to Love, that spirit which unites 

Man to his brother ; slav'ry hating. 

Not for himself alone, but all mankind. 

My friends ! it is, then, Love which doth exalt 

The Present, and ennobles it above 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETHY. 157 

All that the admirers of the Past ran praise/' 

*' The Present speaks in thee," Ernest replied, 

Tlie Past in me. Enough." Then Calchas rose 

By fiery youth iirpelled ; with glowing cheek 

He combated the stranger's cautious words. 

*' Think not thy soul can fully comprehend 

The Beautiful which lived in ages Past ; 

Thou, who oanst not perceive, far less admire, 

The Beautiful and Great of later times. 

Wilt thou the world with other eyes behold — 

Eyes of the Past ? Then summon to thine aid 

The Spirits of the Past, and let them here, 

With vision clear and open, look upon 

The labours of the Present. Thales call, 

He, whose inquiring mind paused musingly 

On the mysterious power, to action roused 

By amber rubbed. This power (to him) a spirit 

Woke from its slumbers by all-wondrous art. 

See how that spirit by our nurture grows ! 

Let him behold it now as lightning gleam ; 

Teach him to look, led by the clearer light 

Of deep investigation, how the power. 

Which in the flashing lightning blinds the sight, 

Or in the rolling thunder deafening peals, 

Doth silent dwell in all material things 

Be it in water, or in air, or earth. 

Or in the gifted ore ; as the spark lives 

In stone, by art from darkest night drawn thence, 

And to the senses wonderful revealed 

In all its varying forms ; tasted in salt. 

In heat and light perceived ; now in the flame 

It writhes, and in the faithful magnet now 

Points a sure pathway to the mariner; 

It lives in branch and leaf, in muscle strong, 

And shrinking nerve ; the eye material 

Cannot detect it, yet is it revealed 

To the soul luminous. Let him behold — 

Then do thou well reflect how such a sight 

Will move him. Call Pythagoras and bid 

The sage to mark the laws divine which rule 

Each planet's course; and when he reads and sees 

Such harmony amidst the countless worlds, 

Trembling with joy his heart will overflow 

Before the sacred concert of high reason. 

What Mathematics have for us achieved 

Let Euclid see ; and how on Nature's steps 

They follow close, their constant progress marked 

Neither by sudden pause or forward bound 

But leading on to infinite results 



158 THE KELATION BETWEEN 

Of computation wliich he dreamt not of. 

Then Aristotle, once th'> king of men. 

Great prophet of the heathen ! through the lapse 

Of ages past, Christian, and Islamite, 

Thee as their master owned, and unto thee 

The learn'd do homage still; who first to man 

Reveal'd the depths of thought, and did unfold 

The secret laws which guide the heav'n- taught poet 

In his creations ; and with equal skill 

And clearness did the policy declare 

And laws by which a kingdom may be ruled. 

Great Spirit ! thou with fearless eye surveyed 

All nature, still by thy light we read 

Wisdom in ev'ry living creature's form. 

Consider us aright, and thou wilt find 

No pause in our deep earnest search for Truth ; 

And thy free spirit a charm will ever hear 

In verse romantic, produce of our age. 

But what the Present time has best conceived 

For the State's good, and for the gen'ral weal, 

(However from perfection far removed,) 

Thou wilt assuredly confess to be 

A progress great and glorious, although 

Such knowledge may appear of little worth, 

Compared with all philosophy has gained 

Of Nature's works." Here Ernest spoke in haste, 

Nor could contain his words impetuous. 

** Thy eloquence is always moved to speak 

In praise of the one knowledge which belongs 

Unto the Present, though of spirit and soul 

Sterile and void." Then Frankman straight replied- 

The man of wise and comprehensive soul: — 

*' Hadst thou this question duly weighed, then ne'er 

So crude a judgment couldst thou have pronounced. 

He who has found the end of his research, 

A soul oppressed with knowledge there to end, 

Has only read the book, not grasped the sense. 

If ancient Greece had nature's secrets known 

As we, then would not her famed poetry, 

Or proud philosophy have now become 

Degenerate ; for scarcely thou wilt doubt, 

That to harp ever on one favorite theme, 

Will by degrees lead us away from truth. 

Let the eye always contemplate one form — 

How soon ^tis dazzled ! — and the image gained, 

Desire increased for more, in eager quest 

Falls into wild extravagance and falsehood; 

And even mayhap the brain in madness reels. 

E'en where the soul is never thus profaned 



NATURAL SCIE]SCE AXD POETKY. 159 

By such desire ; yet fixed on one idea, 

Closing the mental eye to all besides. 

Rejecting the vast wealth nature presents. 

And gazing as one in a waking dream, 

The soul will pass away. Too lon^ within 

Our native -Germany there have been some. 

Who strive with daring wing aloft to soar 

Over the barriers safe of certainty. 

Which here inclose Art and Philosophy. 

Ye fools ! intoxicated with desire 

To gain what Nature placed beyond our reach. 

Truth ye reject for wisdom's semblance 

And empty phantoms. In Philosophy 

And Art no power can check the wayward flight 

Of the wild visionary, save the search 

Into the depths of Nature's laws profound. 

Here, life of action — here the eye beholds 

Reality. With rapid strides she comes, 

And with new weapons ever armed, subdues 

Conceits, and silly fancies which have grown 

To be revered through age. In deeds, not words. 

Not in the meditations of the brain 

Sophistical she rests ; but each day tells 

How she by countless works her power retains. 

Dost thou not now behold the bulwark fall. 

The dreams of him — the visionary, fade ? 

Oft has the voice of Wisdom been decried. 

When she hath dared some fond conceit to quench, 

Which by the multitude has been embraced ; 

Opinion then alone can be subdued 

When seen by all ; for else Truth's staff of office 

Is snapped in twain. How many a prejudice 

Has vanished when the lightning's flash is led 

By the slight wire obedient to the ground. 

Since we have learned the motion of the earth. 

What baseless theories have been destroyed ! 

Since we created visions for ourselves. 

How many a wandering sprite has disappeared !" 

Ernest replied: ** I never have denied 

That Intellect has triumphed ; yet, with life 

Adorn it as thou wilt, my inmost soul 

Still cleaves unto the golden time, when life 

Was not a mere reflection of cold reason. 

Pardon me, if I still maintain, that Helios, 

Guiding his fiery steeds, still rouses in me 

A more poetic ardour, than the sage 

Who tells me of a lifeless circling ball. 

Blind to its own effulgence, and which spreads 



160 THE BELATION BETWEEN 

Rich blessings o'er the land, yet feels no power 

Or pleasantness ; rejoices not to hear 

The voice of praise, nor can itself return 

Thanks to the Giver. Darkly it moves 

As the mechanic's wheel ; the heavens are empty, 

And the wide space, once dwelling of the gods, 

Now tenantless, serves but the slavish law 

Of Gravity. Away with learned lore ! 

Leave me in peace, free to enjoy and live 

"Within the golden dreams of days long past; 

When Oreads filled the heights, and Diyads dwelt 

Amidst the groves, and water from the spring 

Kippled from vases held by lovely Naiads. 

Leave me the Poet's song, e'en as himself 

Immortal ! " With generous ardour then 

Calchas replied : " Where is the man so rude 

Who has not followed in the poet's train 

Into a world, his own imagining. 

Adorned by him with wisdom and with beauty ? 

And shall we, then, despise the inspirations 

Of that exalted nation which upheld 

The torch to Europe ? Think not such there be. 

Yet the poetic splendour of the Greek 

Shall not our eyes delude. Is there no power 

In Truth, beauty divine, which thou in scorn 

Rejectedst ? When in mockery thou sayest, 

* Our sphere by Gravity is ruled,' thou hast 

The great first cause of Nature overlooked ; 

The wondrous force which binds all things to earth 

Alone thou saw'st. This force is but a witness 

Of the great principle, which in itself 

Ail doth unite. The origin of power 

Connecting, ever present in us all, 

The pious soul points to th' Eternal Ruler, 

He whose Omniscient Wisdom ordereth all. 

The watch — an image of the vast machine 

Which moves a world. Thought is the origin 

Of each ; but with this difference — the first, 

The work of man ; his brain inventive, learns 

To apply the powers his Maker lent, for good ; 

While in the last, a work divine we see, 

Gifted with ever-germinating life. 

Truly, within the world each separate part 

Obedient, without self- volition acts ; 

As in the body, not a limb can move 

Unless directed by the sovereign will; 

The mind within gives lite unto the whole. 

Dost thou perceive nought but machinery 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETRY. 161 

In laws which guide the course along heaven's paths ? 

Look with a larger view around ; behold 

The unity of living thoughts, displayed 

In countless varying forms. The mighty sun 

Is but a twinkling star amidst the space 

Infinite filled with worlds, whose suns^, heaven's lamps, 

Shine in our night. The sphere which bears us on, 

A planet only. They the light of worlds, 

Whose forms gigantic, to our human sight 

In the blue vault of heaven as lesser lights 

Appear ; as on its axle turns our earth, 

Each planet turns — each in the space assigned. 

Till to the eye of him who dwells on earth 

The arch of heaven itself appears to move ; 

Alternate day with night, motion with rest. 

Each planet moves with path unvarying; 

And each rejoices in the changing year 

And season, as the sun is near or far. 

Again, — call on the souls of men long dead, 

And through the telescope let them behold 

"Valleys and mountains on the pale moon's face, 

Moons circling other planets far removed. 

Let the astonished gazers turn and look 

Upon the spangled heav'ns, there to discover 

Thousands of blazing suns, encircled by 

Companions numerous ; then, if amidst 

This region infinite, the spirits there 

Should, prophet-like, a race of beings behold. 

Struggling for mental power, knowledge divine. 

Would they with longing eyes seek for the steeds 

Which draw Apollo's car, or wish to see 

Diana, with her hunting-spear and nymphs? 

Oh ! they would gladly in that hour renounce 

Dryads, and Nymphs, fair guardians of the stream 

Could they, like us, behold the hidden course 

Of Nature, whch provides the flowing spring. 

Bedews the grass, where we may almost hear 

The breathing of the silent, scented flower ; 

And where the sage may trace the active course 

Of things with life replete ; the rushing wind 

Plays well his needful part. Turn, then, and look 

Upon the varied business of man's being, 

Where the inventive spirit finds fit work 

For the free hands to do. In sooth, we might 

A thousand wonders add unto the seven 

Which the past world astonished. Now no more. 

Since wonders are so rife, that one alone 

Seems but the little vessel which hath borne 

Us through the misty way. What Nature lent 

M 



162 TILE RELATION BETWEEN 

Her feathered children of the air, to soar 

"With outspread wing, free in heaven's azure vault, 

Art has outdone ; and now majestic floats 

The dweller of the earth in regions where 

The kingly eagle has not dared to soar. 

Did not the hapless fate of Icarus 

The poet warn, that such an airy flight 

Secure he cannot dare. Praised be the age 

When wonders are so rife, that one like this 

Is lost among their number manifold." 

I hope I shall be excused for having introduced this lon^ 
quotation, as it may serve to place the scientific and sesthetic 
mode of thought, which it seems to me must proceed from 
the proper cultivation and nurture of natural science, in a clear 
point of view. It is easy to perceive that it is not intended 
now to reject either that which in ancient or modern times 
has been considered beautiful ; but to acknowledge the co- 
operation of the discoveries of natural science in the forma- 
tion of the more extensive kingdom of beauty which is de- 
manded by our own period. I have spoken, not only here, 
but in earlier writings, of the extension and the union whicli 
is thus produced between the comprehension of science and 
beauty. The tendency of my thoughts has generally led me 
to illustrate the case from the universal laws of nature, and 
thence to point to that which is exhibited to the sensational 
apprehension. There will soon be an inclination to admit 
the reciprocal influence which must exist between science 
which has originated from a description of nature on the 
one side, and poetry and the plastic arts on the otBer ; 
but it has not yet excited the attention which it deserves. 
Humboldt has represented this in a masterly style in his 
Cosmos, vol. ii. p. 370 — 465.^ I must refer you to this, and 
will only mention the principal idea in as few words as pos- 
sible. The more perfect knowledge of the works and active 
laws of nature which our period possesses above every other 
preceding it, and the ocular knowledge of distant countries 
which is now gained by so many well educated travellers, 
must give occasion to* representations in which scientific 
accuracy is immediately comprehensible to the imagination. 
This union is not accomplished by the addition of extraneous 

* See Translation from the German, by E. C. Otte, (Bohn's Scientific 
Library.) 



NATURAL SCIENCE AND POETRY. 163 

ornaments, which would be in opposition to all true art ; but 
in such a manner, that the nature of the locality may be com- 
prehended in its many and various relations ; which neces- 
sarily requires a combination of almost all the powers of the 
soul. The representation of the knowledge thus gained must 
in that case harmonize with it. 

'* Without leaving the land of our birth, we net only learn to know 
how the earth's surface is fashioned in the remotest zones, and by what 
animal and vegetable forms it is occupied, but we may even hope to 
have delineations presented to us which shall vividly reflect, in some 
degree at least, the impressions conveyed by the aspect of external 
nature to the inhabitants of those distant regions. To satisfy this 
demand — to comply with a requirement that . may be termed a species of 
intellectual enjoyment wholly unknown to antiquity, is an object for 
which modern times are striving; and it is an object which will be 
crowned with success, since it is the common work of all civilized 
nations, and because the greater perfection of the means of communica- 
tion by sea and land, renders the whole earth more accessible, and 
facilitates the comparison of the most widely separated parts." — (See 
Translation of Humboldt^ s Cosmos, vol. ii. p. 436.) 

The poet, when he wishes to place the scene of his events 
in a distant land, will also be enabled by the vivid compre- 
hension of all conditions of existence offered to him by 
science, to give that clear, visible truth to his description, 
which so much contributes to charm his readers and his 
auditors. It is the wish of Humboldt that landscape-painting 
should be much extended by the numerous and remarkable 
varieties which are afforded by the vegetable kingdom of dif- 
ferent countries. He wishes that the landscape-painter, after 
having prepared himself with an appropriate knowledge of 
natural science, should reside a considerable time at the 
different localities, and then produce his works, with that 
freedom of art which is suggested by the mind which has 
been thus enriched. 



M 



I' 



THE KELATION OF 

NATURAL SCIENCE 

TO VARIOUS 

IMPOETANT KELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 



1. — The Invariability of the Laics of Nature, 

With a full persuasion of the ancient doctrine of the 
invariability of the laws of Nature, I have endeavoured to- 
show in the former part of this work, how, in my opinion, 
this incontrovertible truth by no means leads to a denial ot 
religion and morality, which many have been led to believe, 
by a false comprehension of what is required by Nature ; but 
that well grounded Natural Science shews that these laws are 
dictates of reason, originating from divine reason itself, and- 
this doctrine, if properly understood, is in the most perfect 
harmony with true morality and religion. The highly 
esteemed author of the Remarks is not convinced by my 
representations, but disputes the invariability of natural 
laws. The principal objection is put in the following words : 
(p. 299.) 

*' No one doubts that the laws of reason^ if we may use a theological 
expression — those ad intra, namely, the laws which constitute the nature 
of reason, are eternal, for reason cannot deny itself. At the same time a 
law may be quite rational, and yet only be valid for one particular period, 
whilst tlie actions, as the author says, must be different, if we act in 
different circumstances, according to the same principles. The animal 
and vegetable kingdom of past ages was created according to natural laws, ' 
but this has now passed away, and is replaced by other animals and plants, I 
also created by natural laws, which therefore cannot be the same as those 
which nature obeyed in those former ages. Some people will say — only - 
differently modified, according to times and circumstances ; for those laws, • 
being variable, were not fundamental laws. We must indeed at length 
reach invariable laws, — tlie fundamental laws of the whole of existence; 
but the question is : how high shall we mount in order to find laws which 
are independent of time and circumstances, and which cannot be changed ? 
Nay, why may we not indeed question whether the nature of tiiis. whole . 
world, however long its duration may be, is yet, if I may so speak, a tem- 
]>orary arrangement, which can, and will be changed, whilst the reason, 
which is revealed in it, remains the same.^'' 



TO TAKIOUS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 165 

It is undeniably true, that, " the actiona must he different^ if 
", tee act in differeyit circumstances according to the same prin- 
ciples ;" h^it if the principle remains the same, then it has not 
certainly been changed!'' The actions are certainly not the 
principle, but events, which obey the laws. 

The subject, however, is far too important to allow it to be 
decided in any way which gives it the slightest appearance of 
a dispute about words. So far as I understand the author, he 
wished to say, that the altered circumstances were not pro- 
duced by invariable laws; and we must thence infer, that the 
gradually developed effects were not necessary consequences 
of fimdamental laws. But this opinion does not agree with 
what nature teaches us ; our researches there shbw us, that 
altered circumstances are in themselves the consequences of 
natural laws. In the Remarks an example was selected of the 
altered circumstances by which animals and plants which 
have arisen at different periods of the earth were differently 
formed. Since the reader, in order clearly to comprehend 
the explanation of this example, must behold several examples 
vividly before him, in which it is evident how closely natural 
laws are united with one another, and what an immense 
variety of unusual phenomena may arise from this cause, so 
that effects which occur under different natural laws mutu- 
ally influence one another, I will introduce the subject with 
a suitable illustration. 

It is a law of nature that all bodies and parts of bodies 
mutually attract each other; and it is as certain, that the 
attraction between two points is inversely the same as the 
squares of the distances. The force with which two points 
attract one another, is therefore a hundred times less at a 
distance of ten feet, than at a distance of one foot. The dis- 
tance may undergo innumerable changes, the law remains the 
same. But from this law it further follows, that all bodies 
fall perpendicularly towards the surface of the earth, namely 
towards that surface w^hich the earth would have, if all its 
inequalities were away, a surface such as every expanse of 
water exhibits. If it is now proved, that a body falling very 
near a large mountain deviates slightly from the perpen- 
dicular, does this shew that the law is changed ? or does it 
not rather shew, that in consequence of the law, the deviation 
takes place from the attraction of the mountain ? We further 
find that a body does not fall ever^^where on the surface of the 



166 BELATION OF IS-ATURAL SCIENCE 

earth with equal velocity, although it is the same mass < 
earth which attracts ; but does this shew a change in the lawl 
of Nature ? No; it is because another fixed natural law inter-" 
feres with it ; namely, the law of centrifugal force, which, itself 
a necessity of reason, is only a part of the combined laws of 
motion. By this law, it has been calculated that the velocity 
in falling, increases, the nearer we approach the poles ; and 
we should not forget that this inequality had been calculated 
long before it was discovered by experience, I say an inequa- 
lity, because its foundation rests upon a unity, namely on a 
unity of law, and by the necessity of reason is formed out of 
generally prevailing laws. The law of attraction is recogni- 
sable under a variety of forms, in many other natural events. 
If we set a body in motion, attraction acts upon it every 
moment as much as if we had not given it this motion ; but 
from the union of these two influences, there arises a new 
velocity and direction from the laws of the motion imparted, 
and from the subsequent fall. Thus an obliquely ascending 
motion imparted to a body, causes it to describe a parabolical 
figure. At the same time, in this example, I have for some 
minutes paid no regard to difierent co-operating circum- 
stances, and especially to the resistance of the air. This 
produces a change in the form of the path described, but 
exactly such a change as the natural law of resistance 
requires. 

Even when currents of air change the path of the projected 
body, this does not happen because the laws of attraction, of 
motion, and of the resistance of the air, are altered, but 
because an effect is added, which is regulated according to 
the laws of the currents of air. Bearing in mind the same 
laws, if we now imagine a body which has received motion 
far above the earth, beyond the region of our atmosphere, 
vve can, from the same principles, mathematically prove that 
it must describe an ellipse, whose size and deviation from the 
figure of a circle is determined by its velocity and distance 
from the earth. In this manner we can calculate the ellipse 
described by a body, which is as distant from us as the 
moon, and behold, it is the same path M^hich the moon 
actually describes ! A few centuries ago, the inequalities 
which were discovered in the path of the moon appeared so 
inconceivable that they were compared to freaks. The laws 
of attraction, discovered by Newton, gave him the means, 



TO VATIIOCJS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 167 

even at that time, to accouDt for many of these inequalities, 
i and to find there existed still more inequalities which obser- 
vation had not then discovered, but which were afterwards 
confirmed ; and now, by means of the higher cultivation of 
mathematics, it is possible to calculate beforehand all these 
inequalities, and to such a degree that calculation satisfies a 
far more delicate power of observation than we formerly pos- 
sessed. 

But our thoughts cannot stop here. The moons of the 
other planets, and the earth, with all the planets round the 
Sim, move according to the same laws. I will not explain 
this more minutely, but will only remark that we find in all 
this variety innumerable inequalities in distances, directions, 
velocities, &c., which all follow the same laws. Science, by 
her predictions, defies the arguments which ignorance has 
occasionally produced; these predictions are not few, ob- 
scure, undetermined, or only accidentally coincident, but 
numerous, clear, determined in point of time and place, and 
never-failing. We here see a gi'eat example, and yet, when 
compared with the richness of its contents, but slightly 
developed, which may explain to us the important truth, 
that the consideration of Nature ofiers to us a connected 
view of the ever-present manifestation of divine reason in the 
Finite. We do not here speak of signs and presentiments, 
but of mental demonstration. 

After this great example I shall be able to treat those 
which follow more briefly, and to employ them principally as 
an illustration in various ways of the character of the laws of 
nature. 

We learn from chemistry that the natural action by which 
iron is rusted is combustion. But it is a law of Nature that 
combustion produces heat ; do we not here meet with an 
exception ? It only appears so ; for this combustion takes 
place so slowly that the heat which is every minute evolved 
is too little to be proved by our instruments of measurement. 
The answer is perfectly satisfactory, but it can receive another 
support, if I may so express myself, from without. By 
means of chemical experiments, by which it was attempted 
to restore some iron-rust to its metallic condition, the metal 
was changed into the form of powder. When the innu- 
merable small surfaces of the iron-dust come in contact with 
the air, they become rust, with a rapidity a thousand times 



168 RELATION OF KATUEAL SCIENCE 

greater than that which took place in the solid mass of iron ; 
and, in this instance, a powerful evolution of heat is not 
wanting. 

It is a well-known law that fire produces heat ; but if we 
put water into a red-hot crucible which contains liquid sul- 
phuric acid, it will be changed into ice. To those who are 
not versed in science, this appears an extraordinary excep- 
tion to the law. But the scientific man may note it down as a 
triumph. He knows that actions here take place which 
obey different laws. The one is the communication of heat, 
by which water receives a higher degree of heat ; the second 
is evaporation, which produces cold. Liquid sulphuric acid 
evaporates with a greater rapidity than most bodies, and 
produces such intense cold that the water not only loses all 
the heat which it receives out of the hot crucible, but a great 
deal more, and thence arises the effect, so astonishing to the 
imagination, that water becomes ice in the midst of fire. 
Those who are acquainted with the fact will see that I do 
not here enter into all the minute circumstances ; but they 
will also know that they are not of that description that from 
them an exception can be made, in the constancy of natural 
laws. 

Such a union of several powers, where each acts according 
to its own law, is so far from being of rare occurrence, that 
it is rather the usual mode of action in Nature ; thence an 
infinite variety of effect is produced ; but with all this 
variety in time and space, it is only the effects which suffer 
a change, the laws which they obey remain the same. 

Bearing this in mind, we must look at the more com- 
plicated actions in nature, for example, the life of plants. 
The plant feeds itself upon certain materials, whose circula- 
tion and chemical combination is promoted by heat and light. 
The laws by which heat and light operate in the plant are 
inevitable, but the effects springing from them are various. 

Heat produces many changes in the chemical reciprocal 
action of matter, and this is also naturally the case with the 
chemical action which takes place in the vegetable kingdom. 
These effects, as well as evaporation, are caused by heat, in 
accordance with determined natural laws, which are the same 
in the vegetable kingdom as in all the rest of nature. 

In the dry, hot seasons of the torrid zone, the evaporation 
produced by heat, both in the ground and in plants^ 



TO VARIOUS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 169 

has such a preponderating tendency to dry up, that the 
water which dissolves at last loses the chemical action by 
which the nourishing materials are carried through the 
different parts of vegetables. Now% if the chemical action in 
these plants ceases for a period, it is not caused by the ces- 
sation of those chemical laws — these remain unaltered — but 
because one of the conditions of the chemical effects conse- 
quent to the natural laws of heat has been arrested. If an- 
other season brings with it the necessary moisture, the mutual 
action of the dissolved materials again begins : it need hardly 
be said that the seasons themselves originate in natural laws. 

It would occupy too much time if I were here to treat of 
the laws by which light affects plants, by which the carbonic 
acid of the air is imbibed by the leaves, and again by which 
these fill the atmosphere with oxygen, and many other laws 
which are of importance in the active forces which influence 
the lives of plants. I think I have said enough to show that 
it is not the laws of action which undergo a change, but the 
actions themselves, in proportion as they coincide with the 
com'se of the laws which govern the whole. 

I found it necessary to make this preliminary notice before 
I could venture to pass to the example introduced in the- 
Remarks, for this is borrowed from a branch of science w^hich 
is not nearly so well understood as the doctrine of motion or 
astronomy, or as the observations upon the life of plants on 
the surface of the earth ; it might therefore be possible, that 
any one who thought it worth while to take a part in the 
present discussion, might make use of the points of dispute 
offering themselves here, and thus perplex the w^hole matter. 
We must next show, how it was possible that the numerous 
changes w^hich took place duiing the development of the 
earth, usually happened under the same laws. A glance at 
the present theory of the development of the earth w^hich is 
now generally adopted, will suffice. I consider it essentially 
correct ; but if we had not such indisputable proofs from so 
many' other sides, of the invariability of natural laws, an 
example borrowed from a less developed branch of science 
might be easily mystified, not to the true natural philoso- 
pher, but to many who justly desire to participate in the 
explanations which may be here given. It will now be 
evident, that it would not destroy the intention of the follow- 
ing statement, if it were contended that the planets were in 



170 KELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

a state of vapour before they became liquid ; but it is still 
easier to prove that they ^.yere liquid before they became 
solid. If we were to give up the idea that the vaporous 
condition first existed, we certainly could not account for the 
greater degree of heat at an earlier period; but that it did 
exist, and that it gradually cooled in the course of time, 
would still remain certain by other proofs. Even if other 
influences occasionally produced some interruption in the 
gradual cooling, our explanation in the present example 
would equally serve as an illustration, and from our certain 
knowledge of the invariability of natural laws, it would not 
fail in its power of conviction. The earth was developed by 
laws which have never changed, but its condition has undergone 
incessant change. In the many thousands — indeed, perhaps, 
millions of years, which preceded the formation of the first 
organic bodies on the earth, it was converted by a series of 
condensations from an enormous ball of vapour to one much 
smaller, not very unlike the size of our present earth. Ac- 
cording to a well-known natural law, these condensations 
emitted a great deal of heat, far surpassing what w^as at the 
same time lost by radiation. When the contraction had 
fulfilled the principal part of its work, and the earth was 
brought nearly to its present density, it was in a very heated 
condition. The condensing action was no longer sufficient 
to produce as much heat as was radiated ; its surface became 
liquid ; a great part of the vapour surrounding it was con- 
densed ; it now became an inwardly liquid ball, surrounded by 
a firm crust, covered with such a hot sea, that neither plants 
or animals could exist on it. But the process of cooling 
always continued; and when the surface was reduced to a 
temperature which probably little exceeded what now exists 
in the torrid zones, plants and animals began to dev elope 
themselves. We learn, from the oldest strata in which these 
remains are found, that it was only the least developed 
organic forms which then existed. The atmosphere a^ that 
period was of a very different quality from what it afterwards 
became : it abounded in carbonic acid, and was deficient in 
the air necessary for respiration, whose principal element 
was chemically united with the carbonic acid. On account of 
the intense heat, the atmosphere contained a great quantity of 
vapour ; in the upper regions of the air this vapour was con- 
densed by giving out heat to the heavens, and therefore far 



TO VAKIOUS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 171 

denser clouds must have been formed than now exist, and thus 
loss sunlight could penetrate them. But in consequence of 
the invariable laws of heat, the cooling process continued; a 
i>Teat part of the vapour was thus condensed, the atmosphere 
became clearer, which enabled the sunlight to act more 
powerfully upon the earth, and by that means to produce 
unequal effects on the different parts of its surface. During 
the various changes of condition which arose in consequence 
of what we have here described, more organic forms were con- 
tinually developed; sunlight, so favourable to the life of 
])lants, increased ; the large proportion of carbonic acid in the 
atmosphere gradually gave more and more of its carbon towards 
the nourishment of plants, whence its oxygen became sepa- 
rated as vital air, and the atmosphere became better adapted 
to the life of animals. It thence follows, that each natural 
period must have prepared for the succeeding one. We find 
in the remains preserved in the earth a series of forms more 
and more developed, which succeed one another, till at length 
that condition w^as prepared, in which man, and the animal 
and vegetable world adapted to the wants of man, could 
prosper. It is probable that this began when the proportion 
of heat was such that the globe did not annually radiate more 
heat to the heavens than was restored by the sun, or that this 
equilibrium was so nearly attained, that our observations 
could not discover any perceptible change ; and, so far as 
our knowledge of the productions of the vegetable kingdom 
in different countries is communicated to us through history, 
we are fully convinced that this was the case. 

I do not feel myself called upon to investigate here the 
ideas which are exhibited and further developed in that part 
of the Remarks which we have considered (p. 198, &c.) con- 
cerning the present world being a temporary arrangement, 
and the future world of a completely different nature. I shall 
be satisfied if people will believe with me, as a certainty, that 
the world in which the human race was created, and has 
been developed, in which it has received so many revelations 
of the all-penetrating, all-ruling Divine Reason, and in which 
reason rouses so many presentiments of the numerous habita- 
tions which are promised us in the house of our Father — that 
that world, I say, is governed by an eternal Reason, whose 
mode of operation is recognized by us as the invariable laws 
of nature. 



172 RELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

I am well aware there are many who think that the con- 
ception of the world here exhibited, which, though of old 
date, is still very imperfect, leads to terrible consequences, 
and threatens to deprive them of many notions in which they 
formerly found consolation. I do not consider it to be worthy of 
the subject to prove the existence of that which could remove 
this fear, without first mentioning that our wishes should not 
determine what we desire to receive as truth. Should we not 
feel inwardly ashamed if we caught ourselves in the endeavour 
to desire a different truth than that which actually exists? 
And what folly it would be, if we allowed ourselves to be 
determined in our opinions by our desires. Our wishes and 
desires could not make it true ! No ; let us honom- truth : it 
is indissolubly united with virtue. The whole truth brings 
its own consolation with it. I will endeavour to show this 
in regard to this very subject. I know very well that this 
undertaking which has been so often attempted, is one of the 
most difficult, and perhaps can never be executed to general 
satisfaction ; but still I hope that those who have made 
themselves familiar with what I have already said upon this 
subject, (p. 121--127,) will afterwards follow the explanations 
which I shall here give, and through them see that image 
of the most perfect harmony in the world of reason, which 
they brought with them, still farther carried out. 

2. — Can the government of God dispense ivith his Arbitrary 

Will? 

The opinions of philosophers have always been yery much 
divided upon this most difficult question. It is a dispute 
which has not hitherto been decided before the tribunal of 
mankind, and will probably be often renewed, as it is at 
present between my most respected friend and myself. We 
are of course agreed in believing that God governs the world 
with infinite wisdom ; but, on one side, it is asserted that the 
incalculable encroachments which are made by man's free- 
dom in the progress of things, produces irregularities which 
cannot be removed by an all-embracing divine legislation, 
but that they require particular decrees demanded by the 
events, as is the case in the government of earthly states ; on 
the other hand it is assumed that the divine government of 
Reason is so perfect that, without any after-aid, it arranges 



TO TAKIOUS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 173 

those events produced by the irrationality of man in the 
rational plan of the whole. It might therefore appear 
that the mode of comprehension which I follow attributes 
oreater wisdom to God than the one opposed to it, but 
it would be very wrong to allow such an appearance to rest 
upon the opposite mode of comprehension. Those who 
assert the necessity of the arbitrary dealings of God, attri- 
bute to him the greatest possible wisdom ; but they think that 
an eternal legislation can only regulate those actions which 
must of necessity occur, and that it would be an impossibility 
that such a legislation could remedy the abuses of freedom. 

While I can with perfect conviction maintain w^hat I said 
m the division of an earlier paper, entitled '* The essential 
principles of morality the same throughout the Universe," 
(pp. 122-125), I yet think it advisable now to develope and 
defend my opinions far more circumstantially. 

It is the opinion of some people that the perplexing en- 
croachment of accidental causes in the progress of things 
cannot be adjusted without the supervision and assistance of 
an arbitrarily-acting Being ; but this is a mistaken idea : if 
we only know the nature of the disturbing cause, or of the 
disturbing causes, vre can frequently prevent their effect. 
This is more certain to happen, the greater the understanding 
and the insight which are thus put into action. If all that 
we can accomplish as men be ever so little, still it shows us 
the possibility. To Infinite Reason infinitely more will be 
possible. 

I will illustrate the case by a series of examples, and shall 
of course begin with those which are easiest of comprehension. 
Let us transport ourselves back a century and a half ago. It 
was required that a clock should be carried on a voyage 
round the earth, and that it should constantly retain its 
regular course. If we only consider the principle, we must 
find that this is impossible; from the change of tempe- 
rature as well as other circumstances, the length of the 
ilelicate spring, and of the diameter of the pendulum which 
reg-ulates the watch are altered ; it is therefore declared im- 
])ussible that it can preserve its regular course : the maker of 
the clock, or some one sent by him, must accompany it to 
correct the irregularities. But, no ; this is not only unne- 
cessary, but would be quite inadequate for the purpose, 



174 RELATION OF NATTJUAL SCIENCE 

for the artist who understands the laws by which the eflPects 
happen, is able to add paiticular parts which extend by 
heat in such a way as to remove the error ; and now, whether 
the captain of the vessel may choose to go to a hotter or a 
colder climate, the course of the clock remains the same. The 
case is sufficiently familiar in our own times, but we have 
here regarded a past period when it was unknown ; a century 
and a half has not elapsed since then. 

By the use of steam-engines, great powers are put into 
activity; but a mistake in their management may be dan-, 
gerous. The engineer may increase or lessen the fire as he 
pleases, he can even increase it to an unreasonable degree, 
and by that means give such an expansion to the steam that 
it w^ould burst the boiler, if a contrivance had not been dis- 
covered to prevent it. That, as we all know, is the safety- 
opening, with the safety-valve of the boiler, which allows the 
steam to escape when its expansion is too great. In the 
earliest constructions of the steam-engine, some one was 
always obliged to be at hand to turn the cock which either 
opened or closed the opening for the steam. Neglect or 
oversight must have produced evil consequences ; arrange- 
ments were afterwards contrived in which the engine did 
the work itself, and with greater security. The amount of 
resistance which the steam-engine has to overcome, fre- 
quently changes considerably. If the resistance were sud- 
denly to cease, the velocity of the engine would be increased 
to a dangerous degree, but a plan has been invented which 
immediately lowers the steam if the rapidity increases, and 
raises it again if the rapidity lessens. 

These examples will perhaps be thought far too insignifi- 
cant to be mentioned; but at the same time it would not 
perhaps have been right to despise the light which they throw 
upon the subject. If it had been prophesied that exactly 
these counter-effects and these means of prevention would 
be discovered, most people would have thought it impossible. 
Suck examples may at least serve as a warning to those who 
confidently wish to prove a thing is impossible, because they 
cannot understand how it can be accomplished ; a totally 
different design from that which deduces tlie impossibility 
of a thing from an actual inward contradiction. 

But we will now turn to an example which more nearly 



TO VARIOUS KELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 175 

concerns the subject, and wbicli is so ^reat that it embraces 
within it innumerable smaller ones. Let lis ti*ansport our- 
selves back to a time when men were, either everywhere or 
on a large portion of the earth, in a very savage condition, 
without laws or a civilized society. Each individual man 
endeavoured to use his unbridled will against others ; there 
reigned universal civil war, in which miu'der, robbery, and 
every kind of oppression met with no more opposition than 
the resistance which was offered by the sufferer to those who 
attacked him. Let us now imagine that the following ques- 
tion is put to a man in this condition : — Could we not intro- 
duce such a happy condition in which the powerful would 
allow the weak to retain their own, the exasperated vrould 
renoimce murder and other violent deeds, and the impas- 
sioned man would curb his desires when they injured others r 
Roused to thought by the question, he would undoubtedly 
reply : — We can never ourselves produce such a condition : 
such a happy state of things could only be attained if a God 
were to come among us, who would protect the weak, and 
would threaten and severely punish the strong, if they did 
not obey him. We who know what may be performed by 
laws, and by regulations for upholding the laws, are only 
astonished when, looking from them, we cast a glance at the 
wild forces which they have subjected in such a remarkable 
degree. Every desire which originates in the human breast 
to possess, or to enjoy, what is the object of desire of another, 
challenges a dispute ; a dispute ai'ouses more violent passions, 
and even grows easily into a contest for life and death. 
'WTiat innumerable germs of wicked passions ! If it were 
possible that men coidd assemble together in numbers in a 
locaHty which had not been previously prepared for them by 
some legislation and civilization, the most frightful crimes 
would be of daily occurrence. But when we look back at 
the succession of different conditions, which, as far as it 
reaches is displayed to us by history in every country in 
which a higher social condition has been developed, we see 
how extraordinarily great are the difficulties which legislation 
has to overcome. However distant we are from being 
satisfied with even the best social condition hitherto attained, 
still those who preceded us at a gi-eat distance, are to be 
regarded in comparison as savage and lawless. It would 
occupy far too much time w^ere I to explain this here ; every- 



176 RELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

one will be more strongly convinced of it by his own 
reflections on the social condition which history describes, 
the more detailed the historical picture which he forms for 
himself. In return it will not be useless to observe at pre- 
sent, though only in a few examples, the manner in which 
laws operate. 

Man's desire to appropriate to himself whatever pleases 
him, belongs to the first objects of legislation ; it must be 
restrained by severe punishments directed against the seizure 
of property belonging to others. The immediate effect is only 
to deter by terror ; but he who would place therein the whole, 
or even the most powerful effect of the law, is much mistaken. 
Law countenances man's feeling for the justice of rational 
claims. He found it was necessary for the common welfare, 
indeed for common rational intercourse, that every one should 
be secure of that which in accordance with reason he had 
gained for himself. It was not requisite for this end that his 
ideas should be perfectly clear ; it vv^as sufficient, that he 
remembered with displeasure every encroachment made upon 
his rights, perhaps even those, likewise, which had been made 
upon the rights of his friend, in order to give his approbation 
to the protecting law. But this law was also directed against 
many desires which he might himself feel to appropriate to ; 
himself the property of others. He would now be restrained 
by that law, but not by its menaces, for he has himself already 
approved of it ; and he must now possess, although but dimly, ; 
a feeling for the reasonable demands towards which he should ' 
aim. The more the social arrangements are developed, se- 
curing the rights of each individual man, the stronger grows 
the inward consciousness of right, and this supports the laws. 
It originates in the inner mind of man ; but it is awakened 
and strengthened by being outwardly realized. Therefore 
the regulations for upholding the laws, and the disposition to ' 
approve them, strengthen one another, so that the security 
becomes greater, although the punishments are made less 
terrible. 

Something similar may be said of the other dangerous pro- 
pensities of man. What a desire of vengeance exists in him ! 
This desire is often a natural feeling for justice, but its abuses 
are fearful. The laws place a barrier to it ; they protect one 
man from the vengeance of anothei, but when justice requires 
it, they further offer a satisfaction. However imperfect this may 



TO TAraous heligious subjects. 177 

sometimes be, the universal knowledge of it softens and Ics- 
- ns the desire of vengeance in man. Hence it arises, that 

.e knowledge of this outward reason protecting him, elevates 
his o\sii rational life, and his respect for reason, which is 
connected with it. 

These examples sufficiently point out many others, so that 
every reflecting mind will perceive that laws do not only 
produce an immediate effect, but that also, by unfolding a dis- 
position conformable to law, they weaken and extinguish the 
force of evil designs, even when they are the most extravagant; 
and should a whole people simultaneously disturb the existing 
regulations, this disposition yet strengthens those who labour 
for law and order, and does not allow itself to be entirely 
extirpated by those who are seized with a mania for destruc- 
tion, but often restrains them, and indeed calls them back. 

If, therefore, we now consider that laws have, we may say 
many thousand times, prevented various crimes, and that 
therefore the foresight of human lawgivers has often, for cen- 
turies, indeed thousands of years, prevented the abuse of the 
free will of man, we thus see the possibility of his actions 
being governed without his being himself oppressed. The 
direction which laws have given to the free will of man, in 
many respects beneficial, has been no oppression, for he is 
free, and can resist the laws ; but even when he goes astray 
he is still the expression of a rational being, who cannot en- 
tirely escape from Reason and from respect to the surround- 
ing government of Reason. 

However small we may esteem all that human wisdom has 
here accomplished in comparison with that which is per- 
formed by the divine government of the world — I agree 
most entii'ely with this: — yet multiply this performance of the 
limited wisdom of man, with Infinite AVisdom, and you will 
find the result of the calculation to be, that the infinite wis- 
dom of the eternal almighty God is able to guide everything 
without making casual alterations. Do not let us be distiu-bed, 
because much remains in the government of the world which 
we cannot conceive, because the finite being cannot grasp the 
Infinite in its totality, indeed that it is only able to comprehend 
some of its great features. Those who believe in an arbitrary 
government, are accustomed to bring forward examples 
which cannot be explained by the universal laws of existence. 
It is very possible that the events thus selected may be inex- 



178 KELATION OF NATUEAL SCIENCE 

piicable to us with our present knowledge ; indeed it is not 
difficult to find instances of event, which can never be ex- 
plained by human knowledge ; but such inexplicable things 
cannot refute a mode of comprehension which, in accordance 
with its nature, does not pretend to explain each individual 
event. When our opponents triumphantly bring forward 
inexplicable events, we can reply to them : — In common with 
us, you cannot understand these events, but you fancy you 
understand them; you believe that you are initiated into God's 
decrees, and speak accordingly : we know that we do not un- 
derstand them, and openly declare it. They may perhaps 
assert that they are guided by religion ; that they judge 
by the wdll of God revealed to them by religion ; but only 
let them shew us a single instance of an event where it 
can be applied without the addition of some of their own 
wisdom. 

History has been often treated in such a manner that it 
presents the most extravagant inventions of the direct inter- 
ference of God in the course of events ; but the more the 
historian understands his art, and exhibit things connectedly, 
still more we learn from him to understand the laws by 
which the events of the human race and human society are 
directed. Former times have bequeathed to us several his- 
torical works composed in this spirit, but at no period have 
there been so many and such general demands for histori- 
cal representations, or such means to fulfil them, as in the 
present day. Our mode of contemplation is far from denying 
divine influence ; on the contrary, when it accounts for the 
laws by which events happen, for example, those by which 
the Roman empire fell, the Stuarts were banished from 
England, and the North American states were formed, it pre- 
supposes that these laws originate in the will of God, in con- 
sequence of- the eternal nature of this will^ not in consequence 
of arT3itrary decrees produced by the errors of human freedom. 
It is acknowledged as an unavoidable imperfection, that we 
cannot explain each individual part in the laws deduced from 
the history of events ; but it is affirmed that neither intellect 
nor true piety gains anything by attempting to conjecture the 
designs of God in incomprehensible events. 

Many imagine it is a greater comfort to suppose we are 
under the protection of a master who, humanly speaking, has 
a constant watchful eye over us, than if we only place our 



TO YAKIOUS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 179 

trust in the eternal laws of the will of God. It appears to 
me that this opinion rests upon a misunderstanding. I will 
first examine it by an example taken from earthly circum- 
stances. Let us imagine a man who intends to make a 
journey, and that, with regard to the road he has to travel, he 
must choose between two which lie in different countries ; in 
one personal safety rests upon wise laws, and in regulations 
appertaining to them ; whilst the other is so constituted, that 
it has been impossible for the prince, although wise, powerful, 
and good, to introduce the same laws as in the former state, 
though he is ready to remedy this defect by giving the 
traveller a strong watch for his protection : in which of these 
two countries can he expect to travel with the greatest 
security ? We may easily apply this to the two methods of 
representing the government of the world. The one assumes 
that the reasonable management of the world is sufficient to 
give us all the security which is really found in existence ; 
the second requires the assistance of arbitrary inspection. In 
order to judge correctly in this case, we must above all 
remember that we must not demand a more secure protection 
than that which is in reality met with. 

It has often appeared to me, that those who do not find 
in their first compi-ehension all the security they desire, 
require a far greater security than what in reality exists. 
We should misunderstand that mode of comprehension if 
we did not remember that security does not exist in conse- 
quence of an accumulation of the scattered laws of Nature, 
but by means of legislation in its entire connection and 
order, determined by eternal Reason. When Martensen^ 
says, " that we are everywhere surrounded by supernatural 
holy powers, which are able to influence nature apart from 
God," we may, if we wish, comprehend the meaning of his 
words, by the more particular explanation, that we then 
understand by nature, finality alone : not the whole of nature, 
of which however finality is but a revelation. It would not 
be impossible to imagine that higher endowed beings formed 
a part of the eternal reasonable arrangement, who, unseen by 
us, watch over inferior beings like magistrates in the govern- 
ment of a state ; but the experience which we j)ossess of 
what really happens, does not appear to demand this idea. 
We ceilainly often hear things related, w^hich would be 
* Professor of Theology at Copenhagen. 

n2 



180 EELATIOX OF VATrHAL SCIE>-CE 

inexplicable, if we did not beKeve in higher arbirrar 
arrangements ; but that an^rthing is inexplicable without 
certain presupposition is generally a very weak proof of : 
reality. We can only safely come to this conclusion, whe: 
we are certain that we penetrate all the possibilities concerr . 
ing the thing : but this is not the case here ; for there a: 
innumerable conditions and events whose importance for tL 
welfare and happiness of individual man, we cannot expLi: 
out of this presupposition. Here belong all those effect 
which in consequence of universal laws, act upon umrmieral 1 
individuals. The same storm passes over great tracts of lai, 
and sea, destroys ships, tears up trees, throws down house- 
throughout following the some laws. Sometimes fioods hav 
desolated great tracts of land, and in one night consigns 
many thousand human beings to death. Earthquakes hav 
produced as universal destruction. The same drought, th 
same untimely rain, the same severe winter, happens to r/. 
the inhabitants of a great extent of country. Now we can, an 
must believe, that the effect of all such events which happei. 
in common to very different people, belong to the xmiversa. 
harmony of reason, but we must at the same time confess our 
want of capacity to comprehend the individual parts of th 
event. K there is therefore such an unexampled overpowe: - 
ing number of such events which we cannot explain, how crv_ 
we arrive at that c-onclusion? It will perhaps be said, th:.: 
i: is exactly this great sum of inexplicable events which ccm- 
pels us to beKeve in an arbitrary higher interference; I : :: 
we believed in this pre-arrangement, and attempt to co-ii 
hend the possibility of an arbitrary perfect power 
balances ail the contradictions which the onene-s 
occurrences has here brought together, we shall Cci: : , 

our weakness. Then let both parties confess their in: v 
to comprehend this part of existence, and let not tl: 
attempt to procure an advantage at the expense of the otner, 
by merely pointing out his iucapacity. 

I know that there are many who firom another point of 
view will be dissatisfied with the mode of comprehensicHi 
here defended. In consequence of this idea, they think 
that God has no more to do, after he has created the 
world Although this is unimportant as an objection, and 
although I believe we should rather consider the comprehen- 
sion of the eternal government of Reason, than enter into 



TO TAKIOrS EELIGIOITS SUBJECTS. 181 

iTiquiries about the nature of God, I must still show out of 
liat a misunderstandiiig the comprehension here defended 
criijinated. It presupposes, namely, that God only once 
acted and then ceased; in place of which he constantly acts, 
and constantly makes laws : were it possible for this to cease, 
the world would immediately cease ; he incessantly creates the 
entire inlinite manifold existence, and this liyes in him. The 
human notions of repose, fatigue, &c., which we can neyer 
apply to God, haye nothing in common with these yiews. 

3. — The development from the loicer to the higher. 

In the Remarks (p. 299) the question is put : '' But why is 
a law of reason that eyerything should proceed from the 

Tational, eyen from what is contrary to reason:'' I 
answer, that I neyer admitted this. On the contrary, the 
connection shows that it is my opinion that all things in 
existence proceed from something undeyeloped, to pass 
through an imperceptible series of developments. If I am 
now asked why everything in the world proceeds from some- 
thing in which the reasonable is concealed like a hidden 
germ, I answer, that I need not explain why reason is as 
it is ; but that it is so in nature, will, I thiok, in yain be 
denied. Each individual man first begins his existence as 
a wholly imconscious embryo, and after birth as an irrational 
infant. K the author of the Kemarks will apply this to the 
himian race in general, he will not find it contrary to experi- 
ence. He is certainly of opinion that history should point to 

.:i origLQal state of perfection. At p. 300 he says, 

" As far back as history reaches, we never find that a people have ex- 
tricated themselves by their own strength, from a savage and barbarons 
state, but the elevating germ of civilization was always brought from 
other countries where it already existed ; even where it met with such a 
lavoorable soil in the new locality, that it far surpassed the tree from which 
it was taken. We can imagine the imperfect gradually developed to 
greater perfection; on the other hand, I confess that I can never bring 
myself to think that, in the natural order of things, life is developed from 
that which is contrary to reason, or the good out of the evil.'^ 

I must here remark that history (I do not say legends) 
does not go so far back as the earliest civilization of nations. 
The reciprocal influence they exercise on one another is lost in 
the dark ages, of which we gradually learn to divine some- 
thing by the aid of their languages, the similarity of their 



182 RELATION or NATURAL SCIENCE 

legends and their opinions ; but we hardly ever arrive at the 
first steps of civilization. Eut if we admit that the germ of 
reason in the earliest race of man lies hidden as in the child, 
we by no means admit that the rational is developed out 
of the irrational, but that a conscious reason is developed 
out of something of which it is as yet unconscious. Accord- 
ing to this mode of comprehension, there existed no separate 
higher developed reason in the earliest race of men, from 
which intellectual cultivation could commence ; but the asser- 
tion that this must be a necessary condition, appears to 
me incapable of being proved. According to natural laws, 
the reasoning powers of man must be developed by reciprocal 
intercourse with the exterior world ; when he perceives an 
object with his eye, he stretches out his arm towards it like 
the child; after various attempts the remembrance of the 
impressions received by his sight, and the forms and distances 
w^hich he has discovered by his senses, will be impressed on 
his memory, and his reasoning powers will produce thoughts 
concerning it. The different animals will each make a peculiar 
impression upon him ; he will receive the same kind of im- 
pressions from the same species of animal, but dissimilar from 
different species. His memory preserves these impressions, 
his reasoning faculties cultivate them. It is naturally the 
same with all other objects : plants, stones, &c. The more 
highly endowed among mankind will first develope them- 
selves, and afterwards extend their influence over others. 
Man, in obedience to his instinct, is impelled by certain im- 
pressions, to produce sounds. This is even the case with 
animals, but in consequence of his higher faculties, man 
distinguishes them more accurately, preserves them more 
perfectly in his memory, and uses them to express his feelings 
and his thoughts. It is not necessary to discuss here how 
many ages may have elapsed, before there arose from this a 
tolerably comprehensive language; it is sufficient to see the 
commencement of the path. If we now observe what has 
happened in the historical period, it will perhaps be impos- 
sible to find a people who have not had some other nation 
as an instructor, but no one will deny that there are numerous 
examples of men who have discovered new truths, and who 
have everywhere made new mental progress. This indicates 
that such must have been the case before the historical period, 
and perfectly agrees with what we have seen, that the 



TO YARIOUS RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 183 

human faculties only require the influence of the entire 
universal arrangements of reason, founded upon the divine 
nature, in order to develope themselves. 

Theologians have been generally very much inclined to 
believe that nature itself was degenerated by the fall of man ; 
but this opinion cannot be combined with the determined 
knowledge that we possess. It is certain that, before man was 
created, the laws of nature were the same, that matter had 
the same properties, and that the living beings were subject to 
suffering and death. I have said things with reference to 
this in many parts of my book, and especially in pp. 125-127, 
but very briefly, because I regard it as an acknowledged 
thing ; but I feel myself now called upon to say that our 
numerous investigations on the interior structure of the earth, 
and the laws of its development, have shown, that long 
before man came into the world, many great and destructive 
changes had taken place, in which whole species, indeed 
whole races of animals, perished ; that in those times also 
many animals swallowed one another, and indeed in the 
bones of the earliest creatures distinct marks of disease have 
been traced. Such, are the clear proofs we possess that suffer- 
ing, destruction, sickness, and death are older than the fall 
of man ! If any part of the Bible appears to contradict this, 
it may undoubtedly be reconciled by a correct interpretation ; 
but should the contrary be the case, which I do not believe, 
we must leave such passages as unexplained mysteries, until 
a higher knowledge is attained. I leave it to dogmatists to 
consider how far their doctrine of sin may be regarded in 
every way as indisputably correct, or whether they wouJd 
profit by a further investigation. 

4. — Some explanations in reference to what I have said about 

Faith. 

Id the Remarks (p. 309), it is assumed, that in what I 
have said in my book (pp. 126-127) on faith, I have really 
had in view the so-called faith upon authority, but this was 
not my intention. In the Remarks, a passage from my book 
is certainly quoted in part, but with some alterations of words 
and with omissions. I refer the reader to the passage as it 
stands.— (Seep. 127. ^'Withrespecttomuch," to ''fortruth"). 



184 kelatio:n" of natuhal science 

By faith upon authority we must, I think, understand a 
faith ^yhich has its foundation in a blind submission to the 
opinions of others. It appears to me, that the ^y ord faith is 
ill applied here, and that the term faith upon authoritxj 
should be more especially considered in the light of an 
opinion. He who allows himself to be guided with regard 
to disputed scientific opinions by the views of great men, 
may be accused of holding faith upon authority. It may also 
be difficult to distinguish everywhere between this blind 
faith upon authority, and the rational contidence which we 
place in the knowledge and love of truth in others, M'here we 
ourselves are not able to inquire. Happily, the case here 
does not require this sharply defined boundary : no one will 
apply the term faith upon authority, to a faith which is 
excited in individuals by the communications of the Pro- 
phet of the human race, which really reveals '' that which 
before vras hidden in the fathomless depths of his o'^\ti 
nature." 

Hence, an embryo faith is the necessary consequence of the 
rational natm-e of man. If we were merely to call this 
embryo faith a faculty of believing, it would not sufficiently 
express its true condition : it is a disposition and a necessity 
to feel a conviction of the truth of the Reasonable, although it 
is not brought under our cognizance. The more compre- 
hensive the imity of reason of which we are treating, so much 
more intimately is it connected with our own nature, or per- 
haps more correctly speaking, so much the more numerous are 
the points of union in which the unity of reason, which stands 
before us as an object, amalgamates with our own rational 
nature. Our expressions are far too poor to say at once, all 
that ought, if it were possible, to be at once expressed. In the 
expressions which I have used, we shall feel ourselves tempted 
to raise our thoughts only to the form of Reason, but both 
the rational within us, as well as the rational without us, 
is an act of Reason. It is only the imperfection of our 
intellect that causes us to make a distinction between the 
eternal creative power and eternal reason ; ia reality they are 
inseparable. The creative power gives the thing its action, 
reason gives this action its form, which comprises in each 
thing a variety of subordinate forms, just as an idea can con- 
ceive in itself many subordinate ideas. If we turn to our 
own essence, we must then acknowledge that all its faculties 



TO VARIOUS KELIGIOUS SUBJECTS* 185 

taken together constitute one work of the eternal creating 
Reason, or rational creative power, both expressions denot- 
ing the same thing. If we no^y view God as that essence, 
of whose being we must be convinced by our own essence, we 
must then bear in mind that the former as much as the latter 
is an entire living Being, though in every respect infinitely 
more glorious. From Him we receive, through the whole of 
existence, innumerable influences ; but our conviction of this 
springs from the intellectual faculties" of our nature. By the 
hidden power of all these united effects, the knowledge of 
God is aAvakened within us. Some people have such a strong 
internal life of reason, that this consciousness is very easily 
excited ; most people require many and powerful means of 
excitement ; to these belong communications from other inde- 
pendent beings. Were such only believed as communications, 
a faith upon authority vrould alone be produced, which is 
almost useless to our rational existence ; but if these commu- 
nications awake those hidden faculties of the mind which are 
adapted to faith, so that these are developed into a lively 
consciousness of God, and the consequent endeavour to live 
in God, then this faith would never be designated a faith upon 
authority. When our reason, acting with consciousness, 
endeavours with all its powers to comprehend the connection 
between the actions of the God we believe in, and all that is 
effected, a force and clearness of conviction proceeds from it, 
by which, as I might say, faith is changed into knowledge. 

From this exalted subject we will now turn our atten- 
tion for a few minutes to the conditions by which faith 
still more easily passes into knowledge. The consciousness 
of what virtue and duty are, undoubtedly begins with the 
human race, as it does with each individual man, in faith. For 
example, we feel the duty of speaking the truth long before 
we can prove that it is necessary for the human race ; indeed, 
it would be a sad thing if we did not discover a strong love of 
truth, and a sincere veneration for this virtue, among all esti- 
mable men, although among millions only individuals are met 
with, who have turned this belief into knowledge. I must 
still add this remark, that we must not confound this true 
knowledge with the nominal knowledge which is occasionally 
acquired b)- finely imagined proofs, if along with it we lose sight 
of the somxe of existence. The knowledge which we possess 
of a virtue must be rather founded upon natural faith, than 



186 RELATION OF KATTJRAL SCIENCE 

on itself; otherwise it is dead and powerless. What we have 
said of one virtue may be easily applied to others. 

5. — Reason hidden in the powers of the SouL 

In page 314 of the Remarks it is said : 

" It appears to us as if the author had kept exclusively to the 
notion of ' Reason/ God is certainly eternal Reason ; but our notion 
of the Divine Being does not end in Reason ; not even our notion of the 
perfect man^ for man has also Imagination and Feeling ; and although 
these cannot exist where there is no Reason, and here especially there 
should be no separation, as if the one could exist without the other, yet 
the mental nature of man is not sufficiently designated in the word Reason." 

I hope that after all I have said, no very great explanation 
is necessary in order to show what I miderstand by the word 
' Reason,' although I may appear to give it too much im- 
portance. * Thus, I conceive that there is eternal infinite 
Reason, which comprehends all the laws of existence ; through 
it everything receives its whole individuality, its whole 
form, taking the word in its most comprehensive sense; but 
that which bestows being on things, is the creative power ; 
inasmuch as this power acts under different forms, it has 
its individuality in each case by the law of reason, or the 
sum of the laws of reason, according to which it acts. 
So I think we are to understand, when we talk of crea- 
tive powers. Besides, the creative reason, and the creative 
power, are not really two separate things ; we are only 
obliged by our reasoning powers to separate them while imder 
our observation. When in speaking of man, we attribute 
to him Reason, Imagination, Feelings, we use the word 
' Reason' in a far more limited sense. It is the same eternal 
Reason which gives form to our intellectual creative power, 
and its mode of perception to our faculty of receiving im- 
pressions ; but both in imagination and in feeling it acts 
unconsciously, namely, without the intervention of the legis- 
lating faculty of reason ; in human reason, on the contrary, it 
appears conscious of its own nature. In the same way Reason 
acts secretly and unknown in the other faculties ; that it does 
so in the sense of the Beautiful, I have endeavoured to point 
out in many investigations ; and must Ave not confess that con- 
science is likewise an inward feeling which is able to guard 
against the unreasonable, and justifies the reasonable, even in 



TO YAEIOUS KELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 187 

innumerable cases where we do not perceive the whole con- 
) dition of Reason ? It is hardly necessary to say that each of 
our faculties is also in conscious co-operation with Reason. 

I have not here endeavoured to give a complete representa- 
tion of the divine nature. I have not ventured upon it. I will 
not either attempt it, but only say that when we form our idea 
of God from man, as is frequently the case, his idea must con- 
tain all that is glorious in the human being, but with infinite 
power, fulness, and perfection. We must, however, be espe- 
cially on our guard against the errors which may creep into 
such attempts, when we are apt to attribute properties to the 
Divinity which far too strongly bear the stamp of human 
limitation. 

6. — God and the World. 

It is said in the Remarks, p. 313 : 

'* In what we have last said, we have deviated slightly from what actually 
belongs to the paper before us. We return to it, and repeat that our 
principal divergence from the author consists in this, that he has, as it 
appears to us, unjustifiably identified the nature of this world with the 
eternal order of reason, which is doubtless revealed elsewhere, but in our 
nature is obscured and disturbed, and cannot be again self- restored. It is 
therefore our belief, that Eternal Love was desirous to restore it to this 
world in a supernatural manner, and farther will restore it, but with con- 
ditions of independence granted to the finite rational being. It is not a 
human invention, but the distinct announcement of Christianity, that 
** God has reconciled the world with himself through Christ." 

To this I answer, I have endeavoured to show in a far 
more comprehensive manner than has been done before, that 
the eternal order of Reason reveals itself through all finite 
existence. Theologians certainly teach us that God has 
created and wisely regulated the world ; even in many of their 
combined ideas, they mention how it is regulated with infinite 
wisdom; but their attention is generally so occupied and 
carried away in other directions, that they bring it less clearly 
forward ; and this efiect has been most particularly produced 
by their views on the misery and fall of man, introduced by 
sin. The opinion that man's sin has corrupted the whole 
of nature, is entirely opposed to the distinct evidence of natural 
science. It is quite certain, as we have already shown, that 
the laws of nature were the same before the fall as they are 
now ; man even in his state of innocence is represented as 
designed to take nourishment and to multiply his race. The 



188 KELATION OF NATUHAL SCIENCE 

naturalist cannot doubt that tlie human body was constructed 
in the same manner in the beginning as it is now. To bring 
the thing more vividly before us we shall mention some of the 
principal arrangements of the human body : there must have 
existed then, as now, the heart, the circulation of the blood, 
and respiration, muscles for the movement of the limbs, nerves 
to excite the action of these muscles, and to receive impres- 
sions, as at present ; the nerves of the senses must have had 
their origin as they now have in the brain, and have distributed 
themselves thence to the eyes, the ears, the nose, the mouth, 
&c. &c. If any one were to deny this, we certainly should not 
be able to bring forward any proof which could convince those 
who do not understand the connection in nature, which is 
proved by science ; but it is not necessary to be a naturalist to 
feel convinced that the whole animal kingdom, from the earliest 
times till man arose, and later, even to our own days, has de- 
veloped itself according to the same laws, and that the human 
body is comprehended in this connection. There is nothing 
which can lead us to the opinion that man was altered after 
the fall ; this has perhaps been asserted by no one. We must 
therefore rest upon the destructive influence which sin has 
exercised on the spiritual powers ; and even here we must 
guard against exaggeration by remarking how man, akeady 
in his state of innocence, showed that he was as easily 
seduced on the side of piety, as he was beguiled on the side 
of his understanding. 

I have already attempted to shew that the world is in its 
nature perfect ; and that as a divine work it must be so ; but 
since man, in consequence of his limited powers, easily adopts 
a mistaken view of the world around him, and so much the more, 
the less he strives after the divine light, the world appears to 
him, as something separate and apart from God. So the 
world appears through the guilt of man, but not corrupted and 
destroyed in consequence of its own nature. 

I must beg the reader to compare here, the short notice, 
which I have given in p. 121, and the following pages. 

Neither* Christ, nor any of the hihlical writers who benefited 
hy his oral instructioji, have mentioned the corruption of nature 
hy the ftdl. "When we therefore refer to the Bible, we must 
rely on St. Paul alone. I will leave it to theologians to 
determine the right interpretation of his expressions ; it 
appears to me that he only intended the abuse of nature, on 



TO VARIOUS KELIGIOUS SUEJECIS. 189 

man's part, and the great improvement in om- nature which 
; must follow from the improvement of the human race. A 
comprehensive realization of this thought can only exist in a 
very distant future. ISlost of vv^hat theologians teach us, of the 
corruption of nature, does not appear to me to be so clearly 
and decidedly brought forward in the Bible as in their com- 
mentaries, and that it derives its origin from mistaken philo- 
sophical investigations. I will not lead the reader into long- 
disputes on this point, but rather prove my opposite convic- 
tions with the grounds on which they rest. The whole world 
was always finite; and no one ever believed that it first became 
so by man's sin ; but all finite existence is by its nature im- 
perfect. Every finite object is limited and transitory, and when 
viewed separate from its connection with the whole of which 
it is a part, we have sufficient cause to lament over the imper- 
fection of the Finite; but if we do not only regard the individual 
objects merely apart from the whole, and — if I may so express 
it — as if it were their duty to be independent, we shall be led 
to another mode of contemplation. The more an object con- 
stitutes an exclusive whole, the more we see in it the revela- 
tion of eternity. In the totality of the Finite we first see the 
revelation of its eternal origin, so far of course as it is possible 
to see it from our point of view. 

It appears to me that those who have zealously brought 
forward and depicted the misery of the Finite, not excepting 
the profound thinker Pascal, have failed, because they have 
placed the thing in a false point of view ; they spoke of the 
Finite as if it ought to be the Independent and the Eternal, and 
therefore showed how infinitely it is removed from it. Pain, 
death, and destruction are spoken of as the fate of all finite 
beings, and I am asked if I consider all this as nothing. I 
reply that all this is sufficiently felt in finite existence, but I 
doubt that any one can prove that it ought to be different ; 
whereas our consolation in this finite life must be our hope 
in a life of infinite duration. But if existence, properly un- 
derstood, is an undisguised revelation of the Divinity, it is of 
the greatest importance that we do not misunderstand this,, 
but, on the contrary, that we should vividly apprehend it, and 
take a lesson from history, which proves to us how the human 
race, in the most different periods of time, and amongst 
entirely dissimilar races of people, has received instructions 
from these revelations. An intellio;ent use of this know- 



190 HELATION OF NATUEAL SCIENCE 

ledge will serve to strengthen us in our happiest convictions, 
and at the same time elucidate and purify those opinions 
which are mixed up or obscured with error. 

Postscript. 

While I read here in print what I have said (p. 188) 
on the relation between the Finite and the Infinite, I think 
that some further explanations are desirable. Let us first 
imagine the intellectual image which a man of small or slightly 
developed faculties, must form to himself of existence. This 
image will comprehend little more than the necessities of 
external life, and the human relations most nearly approaching 
it. Whence the benefits proceed which he receives from 
society, he scarcely knows; he has a still less clear idea of 
the arrangement and government of the state ; of course 
therefore we cannot expect a survey of the population of the 
earth, and the reciprocal intercourse of nations. Let our 
thoughts now turn to the picture which a well-informed 
citizen, or merchant, paints of existence ; this will nearly 
comprise the objects which we mentioned as excluded from 
the former limited view. Much which there was crude 
experience, in which man saw no thought or connection of 
thought, becomes, from this higher point of view, part of the 
human world of thought. Let us now proceed further, and 
imagine the picture which a man of great knowledge and 
worldly experience, forms of existence : the connection of 
reason which we have discovered in the course of the 
development of the human race, and in the events of time, 
stand clearly before him ; his world of reason is now far 
more comprehensive : however large may be the mass of 
experience which his thoughts can embrace, it is of less im- 
portance in relation to the reason revealed in him, than was 
the case on the lower points of view. Let the same man 
now combine with this knowledge, a general view over the 
arrangement and the laws of the material world, and his 
conception of the world will be still further enlarged. 

There may be various degrees of this, but we will pass 
over most of them, and imagine that he sees the events of 
the human race in their inward connection with the opera- 
tions of nature ; how large and important now will be his 
rational view over the whole of earthly existence ! Let us still 



TO VARIOUS KELIGTOUS SUBJECTS. 191 

make another great leap in our ideas, and imagine that he 
possesses a deep insight into the whole structure of the 
J world ; now again much which was formerly a mere expe- 
rience to him, will form itself into an idea, and thus his 
rational view of the world will be wonderfully increased. 
We shall now pause, to make the proper application of all 
tliis. It is evident, so far as a man perceives the necessity 
of Reason in what he has experienced , it will not appear to 
him as something merely Finite : he sees in it a portion of 
the Infinite. Inasmuch as all perceptional existence stands 
before him as a kingdom of reason, in the same proportion 
he comprehends its eternal, rational being. But this tran- 
sition of the inhabitant of the earth into eternal existence is 
nevertheless infinitely limited, partly by the limitation of his 
faculties, partly by the inevitable influence of the external 
world. It is certainly in his power considerably to strengthen 
his rational existence, and to allow the impressions of the 
external world to have a smaller influence upon him than it 
usually has upon the multitude ; but he is very far from 
becoming a completely free citizen in the world of Reason. 

It will not now be difiicult to perceive that the Finite must 
entirely disappear before God, who sees things at once in 
their whole rational being, and who is not subject to the 
influence of the senses in their finite form, but only knows 
them because the creative powers, whence they derive their 
existence, live in his consciousness. 



ON THE 

INTELLECTUAL INFLUENCE EXERCISED 
BY NATURAL SCIENCE 

IN ITS PRACTICAL APPLICATION. 



A Speech delivei'ed at the Opening of the Polytechnic Institution^ 
on the 6th November, 1829, in the presence of King 
Frederick VI, 

Most gracious King, 

The Institution whose foundation we are now celebrating 
is one of those which have been called into existence by the 
intellectual development which has been latterly exhibited in 
Europe. Such establishments for instruction have been either 
introduced, or are in process of introduction, in all enlightened 
countries. Your Majesty was desirous that Denmark, which 
holds such an honourable place in enlightenment and intellec- 
tual development, should not be behind-hand in this instance. 
Your paternal eye was directed towards these Institutions 
from their very commencement ; and as experience has con- 
firmed the hopes which were then entertained on their behalf, 
you determined to add this important link to the chain of 
beneficial plans, in the promotion of science and the arts, and 
general education, for which Denmark is already in your 
debt. 

It is a pleasant and agreeable duty, which my office imposes 
on me, to be the speaker at this festival. I venture to say 
that the lot could have fallen on no one who is more con- 
vinced of the importance of the object, or more desirous for 
its execution. How sincerely do I desire at this moment to 
possess the skill and eloquence which might correspond with 
the ardour of my wishes. 

I am aware that I am about to speak before the king, and 
in presence of the princes of the royal family, and before so 
many enlightened citizens of my country. How can I expect 



INFLUENCE OF NATURAL SCIENCE. 193 

to satisfy the demands whicli such a festival brings along 
with it. It is only the consideration, that it is my office 
whicli claims my services out of the actual circle of my 
ordinary duties, which inspii'cs me with confidence that 
credit will be given for my zeal in the important subject 
before us, even if my powers should be otherwise found too 
binall for the task. 

Europe has already decided by the testimonials of general 
experience, on the importance of those different branches of 
natural science, which enter so intimately into all the depart- 
ments of the state government, and of the utility of institu- 
tions for their distribution. Should there, however, yet re- 
main a doubt, it is no longer the time to contest the point 
with words, as we indulge the more certain hope to be able 
to do so now with deeds. On the other hand, I will attempt 
to draw attention to one side of the subject which has hitherto 
been little noticed, namely, to the great influence which such 
an Institution as the one now under our consideration must 
exercise on general education and enlightenment, and which 
will at the same time show that this mental development 
must also tend to improve the industrial arts and trades, 
and especially contribute to the welfare of the whole com- 
munity. 

Experimental natural science, by which the efforts of our 
institution are almost supported, cannot boast of a venerable 
antiquity. It is contented to hold a place in modern science, 
and rejoices in the recollection that it was born during the 
great period of the regeneration of the sciences ; but precisely 
on accoimt of its novelty, the influence which it has hitherto 
exercised is but small in comparison with that which we may 
expect from it in future ; partly because it is yet far removed 
from that internal perfection which it is possible that it may 
attain in the course of several centuries; partly, because man- 
kind have hitherto only appropriated the least of the benefits 
which it offers. I have no hesitation in asserting this, in 
spite of the great improvements which our science has pro- 
duced in all that concerns our material comfort, and by 
which Europe during the last few centuries has acquired an 
entirely new^ aspect ; but it applies with still greater force to 
the actual subject of our discourse, namely, to the influence of 
experimental natural science on the development of the 
mind. It is indeed true that what has been already accom.- 





194 IXTELLECTUAL I^^FLUENCE 

pllshed is not to be regarded as unimportant. How much 
has it not contributed to banish superstition. Even though 
it may sometimes have happened that an exaggerated zeal was 
called superstition by many, who, at a certain stage of know- 
ledge, were not able to comprehend the cause whence it 
arose, still the extirpation of that mental malady is no less a 
benefit worthy of being remembered. For to ascribe to a 
powerful irrational being that which is j^roduced by the 
eternal order of reason, or to ascribe to the powers of dark- 
ness that which comes from the Father of Kghts, can never 
be united with good. No ; the dominion of superstition is 
injurious to all, from the prince to the lowest subject. 

Far more important, however, is the intellectual influence 
exercised by science in the variety of her discoveries in 
which a superficial observer would only perceive new know- 
ledge of individual natural wonders. When, however, the 
circle of man's corporeal vision was enlarged by artificial optical 
instruments, did they not at the same time enlarge his mental 
vision ? For must not his idea of existence have been imme- 
diately extended when he learnt that the planets are heavenly 
bodies like our own, some of them accompanied by moons 
similar to ours, and alternating with day and night, summer 
and winter, as on our globe ? Must it not have awakened a 
new conception of the hidden glory of nature, when the same 
variety of form and movement was perceived in the smallest 
portions of bodies, as men had previously been in the habit 
of beholding in a space of considerable extent? '^^^lat a 
sum of accurate ideas have been spread among mankind 
by the discoveries of the last two centuries on the 
atmosphere ; since the barom^eter has proved the pressure 
of the air, and then assisted us in determining the heights 
of mountains, and the depths of wells ; since the air-pump 
has taught us to ascertain the condition of things in a 
vacuum ; since the balloon has carried men through the air 
far above heights to which the eagle can soar ; since the 
specific gravity of the atmosphere has finally convinced us 
that it shares in all the properties of matter ! How often 
the thermometer has corrected the mistaken indications of 
our sensations, and brought us to the knowledge, that both 
the opinion that in past days mankind enjoyed a milder 
climate, or that they endured a severer one, is wholly ground- 
less ; and that nature has preserved the same sublime eon- 



OF NATUHAL SCIENCE. 195 

stancv in her path with regard to heat, as in all her other 
works ? But I should wander too far from my subject, were 
I now to mention all the explanatory instances which are 
presented to us by the doctrine of heat. But I will not 
occupy more of our limited time in quoting examples. If I 
only mention the electrical machine, the lightning-conductor, 
the steam-engine, the prismatic colours in the rainbow, the 
celebrated discoveries of Galvani and Volta, every man will 
at once feel many chords struck in the harmony of his 
knowledge, and will easily complete what I have here 
alluded to. 

But great as is the importance of all this, I yet venture to 
repeat my assertion, that our science has only begun to show 
the influence that she may possess, in the development of the 
human race. 

I hope that our enthusiasm for the intellectual influence o 
the natural sciences will not be found an empty and ground- 
less zeal, but a well-founded effort in the development of 
the present epoch. Other sciences have hitherto guided the 
mind of man on the path of its development, with prepon- 
derating influence, almost bordering on sovereignty. We 
will not forget the great things that they have accomplished. 
We will not entirely quit our former teacher, as if he were 
grown old and useless; but we will also not overlook the 
fact, that each development^, taken in itself alone, is one-sided; 
and that this one-sidedness, if brought to an extreme point, 
becomes dangerous. If we except those rare individuals who 
can mature the very deepest knowledge, a certain amount 
of one-sided perfection and refinement leads to exaggeration, 
which again easily passes into slackness and satiety. In this 
condition we grasp at the supernatural, the unnatural, and at 
sickly exaggeration, and we despise the true, the simple, and 
the wholesome. Our own period offers distinct traces of this 
false tendency, and would offer many more, had not natural 
science sown a seed during the last two centuries, which has 
not been wholly fruitless. It places an invigorating know- 
ledge, founded on coimtless experiences, as a barrier to 
the weak extravagances of enthusiasm, and had it not been 
as firm and indestructible as it is, we should have already 
beheld astrology, magic, and all the monsters of the imagina- 
tion from the Middle Ages, seated on the throne of reason, 
tod supported by a pretended poetical, philosophical, and 

2 



196 INTELLECTUAL INFLUENCE 

religious spirit. Every one who lias watched the signs of 
the present day, and is acquainted with the lessons of nature, 
will feel how much has still to be accomplished ; for nothing 
can strengthen the soul so much as the great truth which 
this science does not only teach, but proves, — not merely 
proves, but places clearly before our view, — that Nature acts 
according to eternal laws, and that these laws are constituted 
as the mandates of an infinite perfect reason, so that the 
friend of nature lives in a constant rational contemplation of 
the Omnipresent Divinity. This habit of keeping before our 
eyes the eternal reason which exists in nature, instils us with a 
dislike to all extravagant enthusiasm, and fills our souls with 
a quiet, clear confidence, which inspires mankind with courage 
and ardour for important undertakings. 

There is also something really refreshing to the mind, in 
the increasing progress of natural science by various disco- 
veries. It brings every year new delight to the friend of 
truth, and never allows error to establish herself. How many 
victories has not the natural science of our century gained 
in this respect for the cause of truth. There was an 
entire school, composed in part of very intellectual men, 
whose efforts for the promotion of science w^e cannot but ac- 
knowledge; but who, in the most rash and youthful arro- 
gance, would have overturned everything. They endeavoured 
to cause experimental science to be viewed as an object which 
was dead, and which had not sufficient power to compass 
nature. How then has our science asserted its rights ? It 
made a series of discoveries on light, on the metallic bases of 
earths, on the mathematical relation in the combination of 
the elementary parts of matter, on magnetism, &c., in which 
these deriders of science had discovered nothing, though they 
^ad indeed dreamt of much, which little suited the nevrly 
discovered facts. 

One most important peculiarity of the intellectual infmence 
w^hich is imparted by experimental natural science, is, that it 
leads to action. The tendency to dwell in general observations 
and in mental contemplation, is especially visible in those 
countries where experimental natural science, particularly the 
experimental part, has only lately begun to have an influence 
on life, while other branches of education have been brought 
to unusual perfection. It certainly would be lamentable if, 
throughout a whole nation, there was no one who resigned 



OF NATURAL SCIENCE. 197 

himself solely to an intellectual life, if I may so express it ; 
but it is not indeed adapted to every one, since where it is 
aimed at by many, it generally becomes an artificial dream, 
which leads people away from the mental and bodily activity 
which constitutes human life, and from those efforts to 
impress the stamp of Reason on everything surrounding 
them, towards which most people are called, and by which 
they can. in various ways, adorn their existence. 

Our Institution enables the cultivated man to become 
acquainted with the powers of Nature which are made use of 
in manufactures ; it offers him practical instruction in 
chemistry, in the art of drawing, in the use and application 
of mathematics, and in the study of machinery ; it opens 
workshops to him, in which the most important mechanical 
arts are taught ; it gives him a general survey of all the ma- 
nufactures, and their mutual relation to each other. The 
young man wdio possesses some talent and industry, by aid of 
the preparatory knowdedge and expertness which he w411 here 
gain, will easily succeed in whatever business he may select. 
He wdll indeed still have to pass through the school of expe- 
rience, but he is spared the year of apprenticeship, w^hich 
has frightened away so many cultivated young men from busi- 
ness, to the great injury of the progress of the country in 
the industrial arts and in prosperity. How few there are in our 
kingdom w^ho venture to spend their means on industrial 
skill ! They are right ; for they neither understand how^ to 
form a plan respecting it, nor are they capable of judging of 
the proposals wdiich are laid before them. But if natural 
science and its application were viewed as a study which was 
suitable alike to young men of higher stations in life, this 
incongruity would soon cease, and many would find a new 
and useful occupation. 

It has not escaped the notice of your Majesty, that many 
persons in office w^ould have been far more fitted for the 
duties imposed on them, if they had possessed that kind of 
education of which we are now treating. You, most gra- 
cious King, have been desirous, by the foundation of this 
Institution, to provide for this im])ortant division of the 
administration. It is quite evident that languages, legal know- 
ledge, and practice in Chancery, do not afford all the prepa- 
ratory knowledge that is requisite for the holder of those offices 
which are intimately connected w^ith, and have a direct infra-- 



198 INTELLECTUAL INFLUENCE 

ence on trade. At the best he acquires, at a later period, and 
but gradually, the experience and the knowledge in which he is 
deficient ; but if he has no "^aste for business, he will be easily 
led to look down on it, as a thing beneath his dignity to notice ; 
and it is much to be feared, that he will not only neglect that 
which may promote it, but that by wrong directions he will 
also stifle in the commencement much that is useful. Whilst 
he who, with diligence and understanding, has benefited by 
our Institution, will bring to his post knowledge and a love 
for business, and will soon complete by experience, that in 
which he then is wanting : he will frequently be the kind and 
rational adviser, where another would only have been the 
man in office ; by his respect for industry, he will contribute 
to remove the undeserved contempt which is such an obstacle 
to its progress; he will reply to the questions which his sove- 
reign may lay before him relative to trade and the welfare of 
the people, with a thorough knowledge of his subject, and 
will be enabled to make useful proposals, not alone for the 
removal of impediments which still oppress the industrial 
arts, but also for new means to elevate them. 

Men who have thus acquired a living and practical know- 
ledge of natural philosophy will spread a taste for it in their 
own circle. No science affords more opportunities for daily 
conversation and communication ; the objects lie so closely 
around us, they offer so much variety and novelty, they are 
so attractive by their utility ; finally, they do 'not so easily 
involve mankind in quarrels as other subjects of reflection, 
which sometimes encourage dispute by their uncertainty, and 
sometimes by the share which is taken in them by human 
passions. This distribution of a taste for natural science will 
afford an opportunity for the natm-al history of our country 
to be inquired into more narrowly, for its productions to be 
better employed, and for foreign discoveries to be more 
rapidly circulated. 

That which was formerly alone designated as education 
must always remain unknown to the greater proportion of the 
labouring classes. Our science is more accessible to the 
artisan ; it is more within his reach on its material side, if I 
may so express it; and from its intellectual nature, which 
scarcely requires any extraordinary preparation, it elevates 
him and gives him a higher intellectual cultivation. A certain 
degree of the education which is usually given, is apt to lead 



OF NATURAL SCIENCE. 199 

many of the labouring classes away from their object in life ; 
it makes them dissatisfied, and gives them a distaste for their 
daily duties ; it entices them to employ themselves in arts 
and sciences which they are neither able to understand nor to 
use ; it even, indeed, leads them to take part in religious and 
political controversies, by which they are changed from being 
useful members of society, to useless and even injm-ious ones. 
Our science leads the artisan to his business : should he have 
superior abilities, and that restless thirst for action which 
usually accompanies them, he then sees immediately sm*- 
rounding him a wide field in which his mind may revel, and 
where he may earn riches and honour without running the 
risk of being scorned, and of making himself ridiculous, or 
oven of being involved in culpable enterprises. 

I am aware that many of the most enlightened and most 
learned men of my country fancy that scientific knowledge is 
unsuitable, and even injurious, to men in business, and that 
we should only communicate fragments, or recipes^ so to 
speak, of the material portion of science to the labouring 
classes. This view, held by so many distinguished men, 
would be alarming, if 1 did not perceive a balance on the 
other side, in the conviction of those w^ho have occupied 
themselves particularly with the improvement of the labour- 
ing classes, and who most of them live in countries where it 
is proved by long experience. I confess that at the first step 
in my path as teacher, I embraced the opinion which I now 
defend, but I treated it with doubt, and submitted it to a long 
trial of experience and reflection. It has not escaped my 
attention that difierent people from among the labouring 
classes, who have employed some of their leisure on science, 
have become unruly, neglectful of theii* occupations, and have 
pm'sued mere visions; but I never was convinced that we 
should be justified in ascribing the fault to science. Such 
people would have otherwise wasted their time just as much 
on things which they did not comprehend, whether they 
might have chosen as the object of their unfortunate activity 
the perpetuum mohile^ or the constitution of the State, or 
religion. In short, there are some men who have a natural 
capacity to pervert everything they touch, and who coidd 
hardly be improved without recommencing their education. 
But we should make a great mistake were we to believe that 
tliese kind of men were only to be found among the less 



200 INTELLECTUAL INFLUENCE 

refined classes of society ; they are found everywhere, even 
among those whose station demands a learned education. 
But in the present case it h evident the misfortune does not 
proceed from too much learning. Science is often repre- 
sented as too difficult, and the comprehensive faculties of the 
labouring classes as too limited. There are many of the laws 
of nature which are as easy to understand as to apply, and 
which are within the capacity of every sound understandiDg ; 
for instance, that all bodies are expanded by heat, that the 
pressure of the atmosphere raises quicksilver in the barome- 
ter, and the water imbibed in the pump ; that motion is 
determined by the weight of a body multiplied into its ve- 
locity. Besides, every man is endowed by nature with a 
proportionate power to comprehend that which most nearly 
concerns him ; and this is why scientific laws are so often 
employed by the labouring classes in a manner that we did 
not expect. Experience has also taught me by numerous 
examples, that a good head, even with the smallest degree of 
preliminary knowledge, is able to make great use of science, 
if only diligence is not wanting. 

While the labouring classes are to be excluded from scien- 
tific instruction, it is at the same time required that the 
scientific man should discover what use can be made of 
science in the workshops. He must accordingly draw up 
rules, whose principles may remain unknown to the work- 
people. The distinction is then ofiered to him of becoming 
the guardian of the labouring classes, but he must decline it 
both on his own and on their account. It is nearly impos- 
sible that the philosopher, even if he should combine prac- 
tical views with his deep knowledge, should keep his eye 
open to all the small individual circumstances on whose suc- 
cess or failure may depend any new arrangement in the work-^ 
shop. Let us even assume that we should find in the man 
of science the singularly rare, if not impossible, union of all 
those talents which are necessary in science or in the work- 
shop — for the workshop also requires talents, which only a 
narrow arrogance can look down upon with contempt ; — if he 
unite, I say, all these natural endowments, how can he find 
time to use them all ? If he is to form rules for the 
workshop, to be followed by ignorant masters, must he 
not live in them that he may learn all that is neces- 
sary to render these rules comprehensible? If he is to pur- 



OF NATUKAL SCIENCE. 201 

sue higher science, must he not retire to a solitude which is 
dedicated to reflection and research ? But even supposing the 
philosopher had drawn up rules as comprehensible as rules can 
possibly be made, still would not many unforeseen circum- 
stances appear, owing to the ignorance of those who employed 
them ? It is an actual impossibility to foresee all these 
circumstances, especially when new arrangements are being 
introduced. There are many complaints of the inutility of 
rales which are found in books, and they are too frequently 
either incorrect or insufficient. But the fault often lies in the 
artizan himself; sometimes from being ignorant of the prin- 
ciple of the rule, he overlooks a circumstance which, though 
apparently insignificant, is really very influential ; sometimes 
he thinks that he is ^\'iser tlian the author of the rules, — for 
self-conceit is the companion of ignorance, — and while he 
believes that he has made an improvement, he makes use of 
alterations which are in contradiction with the end intended ; 
sometimes, as we have said before, he does not know how to 
remedy unforeseen difficulties. It is, besides, almost incre- 
dible to those who have not experienced it, what false ideas 
not only uneducated but educated men mingle with what is 
imparted to them as the results of natural science, unless they 
have acquired a certain degree of accurate and connected 
knowledge of it. In addition to this, the ignorant artisan, from 
his false notions, easily selects imperfect rules in preference to 
perfect ones ; an accidental circumstance which I venture to 
say is not only of frequent, but most frequent occurrence. 

Were science to exercise a great and comprehensive influ- 
ence on industrial skill and trade, those even who pursue it 
would necessarily themselves be di'awn into some scientific 
knowledge. In most cases it is the scientific man who 
makes great and extensive discoveries for the artisan ; but the 
latter must have scientific knowledge to understand these 
discoveries and to recognize their value ; he must even make 
a number of small after-discoveries, that he may introduce 
the principle of the inquirer into the involved labours of the 
workshop. 

The misapprehension of the difficult relation that subsists 
in the intercourse between the philosopher and the artisan, 
has given rise to an indescribable amount of confusion. It 
is time that we should see clearly what is gained by both 
parties, when they are placed in their true relation to one 



202 INTELLECTUAL INFLUENCE 

another. The philosopher has this advantage in such reciprocal 
communication, that his attention is thereby constantly turned 
to the individual facts of experience, ^Yhich, though himself 
starting from experience, he yet easily loses sight of, while, 
building conclusions upon conclusions, he endeavours to raise 
himself to the highest attainable knowledge. It is a part of 
human nature that during a long chain of conclusions we are 
easily led astray, not so much on account of an inward fault, 
but far more because we overlook the conditions which must 
be included in order to respond to nature, so that at the end 
of the chains of thought, we have indeed proved something 
correctly, only that this something is not found in this 
particular manner in the great connection of nature. Our 
science must therefore be diligently brought to the test of . 
experience. All efforts in trade, when we become connected 
with them, present similar experiences, which are indeed 
very urgent, and in a certain manner unavoidable. While 
the scientific man is hence led to notice many things on 
which theory has hitherto not been able to discourse, he is 
impelled to make new researches, which now correct, now 
extend his knowledge ; and on the other side, he experiences 
a new and beneficial pleasure in his science, while he per- 
ceives how it embellishes our actual life. 

The artisan, by his scientific acquirements, is placed in a 
position to understand the principles of those things which 
pass before him, and on that account he is able to accomplish 
much which was before impossible to him. But this is not 
all: the higher development which his reason has attained 
during the acquirement of scientific knowledge, allows him to 
labour with greater imderstanding ; and to labour with under- 
standing is worth more than all the rules in the world. The 
natural consequence of this is, that the artisan works with 
greater knowledge, that he performs his work with love and 
delight, consequently, better and more diligently. He will 
feel himself improved and worthy to be numbered among the 
thinking and enlightened men of his country. He will not 
therefore blush for his peculiar occupation, and what belongs 
to it ; but will feel more ashamed of the shabby artifices by 
which many people in business endeavour to gain unjust 
advantages. This reflection and this noble self-respect will 
be beautifully combined with the spirit of invention, which is 
so povv^erfuUy excited by our science. The inventive faculty 



OF ^^VTUKAL SCIENCE. 203 

is inherent to our nature ; every moment it calls forth ques- 
tions which can only be answered by fresh efforts. Many of 
these are of such a nature that even the less intelligent ai'e 
able to discover them. ,. Here the artisan has a glorious 
opportimity to exercise his powers, and to develop the greater 
or less spirit of invention which may have fallen to his lot. 
It is this spirit which produces improvements in all kinds 
of industry and trade. With it alone w^e shall be in a 
position to rival the industrial skill of foreign countries. 
Xo nation can ever, by imitation only, attain the rank of 
nother. If it desires to compete with a country which im- 
roves its trade by invention, it must itself invent, or it will 
iways remain a century behind. It is only by inventive 
activity that the honourable rivalry and fraternal intercourse 
is produced, which more and more connects the people of 
different coimtries. 

Thus our Institution appears to offer an entire system 
of beneficial influences. The teachers have here the most 
desirable opportmiity to enrich themselves with experiences, 
and to perfect their science by fresh experiments. The few 
who are born with talents peculiarly adapted to science, 
will find abundant means of assistance to lay a foundation on 
vrhich they may continue to build. The future holder of 
omce, who is one day to have an influence on business, will 
here gain the knowledge, the facility, and the peculiar kind 
of intellectual development which is requisite. The young 
man of education finds a school where he can prepare him- 
self for business, without submitting to the rough treatment 
vrhich a gradually declining barbarism has hitherto allowed 
to remain among the different guilds. Those men who have 
not been favom-ed by a high education, will here find an 
opportunity to develop their mental faculties, to improve 
their power of action, and to raise themselves to a merited 
distinction. Those who leave our Institution will, each from 
his position in the coimtry, form new starting-points for the 
distribution of useful knowledge ; even though it may not be 
their principal object, the national spirit will gradually assume 
a more practical dii'ection : the spirit of invention will be 
more and more exalted ; the natm-al productions of our 
country will be better and more diligently employed ; the dis- 
coveries of strangers will be more rapidly circulated among 
us ; and by all these united efforts, wdth the blessing of God, 



204 INFLUENCE OF NATURAL SCIENCE. 

prosperity will flourish more abundantly, and the love of our 
father-land, and our duties as fellow- citizens, will be nurtured 
and increased. 

It is with pleasure that we thus see our country continu- 
ally advancing on the path of enlightenment and intellectual 
development, and the honourable progress it has already 
made, in spite of its small dimensions, and in spite of its 
distance from the centre of Europe. In considering this, 
we feel deeply grateful to the long succession of Danish 
sovereigns who, dating from him who founded our univer- 
sity, have, with such true patriotic zeal, established so many 
institutions for the promotion of education ; but it is not, 
most gracious king, because your benefits concern us so 
nearly, or because your philanthropy and condescension have 
won all hearts, that your majesty is accompanied by the 
gratitude of your people. No I impartial history will one day 
comfirm the truth which we utter to-day, when it relates 
that Frederick VI, already in his youth, when standing 
beside the throne, was the benefactor of his country, who 
powerfully used his influence to break the chains which kept 
the peasantry in servitude, and who thus, by the abolition of 
the traffic in slaves, made Denmark a shining example to all 
the nations of Europe ; and when she has exhibited to pos- 
terity the number of schemes for justice and true civic free- 
dom that this king has brought to light, she will not forget 
to mention his peculiar interest in the national schools ; the 
important and comprehensive improvement which he intro- 
duced in the education of the army ; the new and progres-- 
sively improved form which the learned schools owe to him; 
the important extensions and reforms which our university 
has received ; and the various plans, not only for the arts, 
but for the sciences, whose existence or increased life 
and vigour are owing to the same beneficent hand. That 
which history will one day relate of yom' majesty, is grate- 
fully felt by our hearts to-day. The Institution w^hose foun- 
dation we are now celebrating, adds to our feelings of grati- 
tude, and inspires us with fresh resolutions to contribute om* 
assistance to the attainment of the great intention of the 
father of our country. May heaven bless the king and his 
family ! May our country prosper, and this Institution 
contribute to that end ! 



SPEECHES DELIVERED 

AT 

TWO DIFFERENT 

SCANDINAVIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 



1. — Speech at the first meeting of the Scandinavian Naturalists 
at Copenhagen, 2rd Jidy, 1840. 

We commence to-day with a series of communications and 
transactions which will be favoured by the good wishes of 
all Scandinavia. It is not only as an undertaking to benefit 
natural science that it excites all this sympathy: were this 
alone considered, there would still be no want of sympathy ; 
but it would not be so strong and so living, and exciting the 
interest of all the enlightened men of the North. No, indeed, 
M'e here see at once a great and significant expression of 
the northern national spirit, daily developing itself more 
and more, by which we clearly perceive that we who are 
sprung from one stem, and speak one language understood 
by all, (even though it be in various dialects,) and who pre- 
serve venerable monuments of antiquity common to us all, 
have doubtless also great ends to attain in common, have 
one common position to reach in the world, and by proofs 
of mutual love and respect, have to maintain one common 
brotherhood, during a life of prosperity. 

At the end of the last century and at the beginning of 
the present, we already saw a manifestation of this spirit 
in a Society founded by a Scandinavian philosopher; and 
since that time it has been continually expressed, partly by 
the mutual appropriation of mental discoveries, partly by 
numerous friendly meetings : but nothing ever happened in 
this direction so great and so comprehensive as the formation 
of the present Society. The meeting at Gotheborg, for which 
there was so little preparation, proved at once how much 
might be expected from it; and we need only survey this nu- 
merous assembly, w^hich embraces so many forces, to feel 



206 SPEECHES DELIVERED AT 

convinced that our hopes will be fulfilled. I will not mention 
here the influence it exercises on the success of Natural Science 
in the north, to which the attention of every one has been 
already turned, but I shall beg you to side with me upon 
the influence which science exercises on ordinary northern 
life, which has been certainly felt by all, but hitherto not 
sufficiently expressed ; and perhaps you will not be disinclined 
to follow me from this central point, on a more extensive 
fiight, into wider circles. 

It is obvious that the advantage derived from meetings like 
ours, is not alone directly scientific, but that it possesses, 
perhaps in a still stronger degree, a universally humanizing 
effect ; indeed we may consider this to be its most important 
function. This was already remarked by the celebrated foimder 
of the first scientific meetings, and has been since acknow- 
ledged by men of the soundest judgment. Meantime, par- 
ticularly in latter years, a different opinion has endeavoured to 
establish itself, not indeed by means of open opposition, but 
by all kinds of condemnations and propositions, which pro- 
ceeded from an opposite view of the case. The public meetings 
were by some considered nearly superfluous, and it was thought 
better that we should confine ourselves to sectional meet- 
ings, in order that each person might keep to his own par- 
ticular department. Although the voices who advocated this 
opinion were worthy of the utmost respect, I nevertheless 
feel myself summoned in the strongest manner to oppose 
them. I willingly allow that they were raised from a desire 
to promote fundamental knowledge, and a self-restraint 
which is favourable to it; but upon a nearer examination 
we find that this self-restraint is much exaggerated, and 
that it circumscribes man's whole mode of comprehension, 
and more or less excludes from his perception all that lies 
beyond a self-made narrow horizon, within whose boundaries 
much besides may have been performed. At all events 
we ought to convince ourselves, that the public meetings can 
be as little replaced by the sectional meetings, as these others 
by them. 

It is obvious that in each department there are various 
subjects which may possess an interest to all labourers in 
science ; and how could a better opportunity be presented to 
obtain a desirable view over a portion of the progress that 
has been latterly made^ and to pursue the spirit of develop- 



SCANDINAVIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 207 

ment which governs the whole, than at these larger meetings, 
where new^ ideas and discoveries are proclaimed abroad. 

Bv the exclusion of these public meetings, in which we 
must always be desirous to hear short reviews on many 
subjects which ought to be treated more circumstantially 
in the sections, our whole undertaking would lose its unity ; 
and this would not alone be the case, if they w^ere entirely 
laid aside, which perhaps no one would propose, but even if 
they were treated as a secondary consideration, only to be 
retained as a kind of necessary evil. 

By the public meetings* w^e also place ourselves in active 
connection with the whole people. I know that by many 
this is regarded rather as injurious than beneficial. It is 
thought that the communications thereby assume a less 
learned appearance, a less definite scientific form, and we 
must certainly allow that this does sometimes happen, indeed 
must occur, although by no means always ; but it is another 
question whether they are right to consider this as a clear 
irreparable loss. They do not take into account the plea- 
sure which enlightened men who do not belong to any par- 
ticular department derive, from their participation in them ; 
and the utility it is to ourselves, to have truth represented in 
new forms, is still less considered. It is true that there is a 
false striving after popularity, a mere chase in pursuit of 
pleasure and to produce an effect, which is unworthy of the 
man of science, and that by such means entertainment is 
afforded, which, in place of being useful, only confuses and 
prejudices those who participate in it. It cannot be denied 
that even a true statement of science may be w'rongly com- 
prehended by the uninitiated, and it is certain that he who 
resolves to raise objections by exposing the blunders of such 
expounders and recipients of science, would find no diffi- 
culty; but neither would it be difficult for him who with 
equally hostile intentions were to peruse profound discourses, 
or learned books. However, a conflict of this kind does not 
. lead to a correct determination, which can only be attained 
by comprehending the thing in its true spirit ; and to this I 
must now call your attention. 

By this predilection tow^ards a one-sided conclusion there 
also arises the complaint expressed by some, that the assembled 
naturalists have not met with the repose w4iich is necessary, 
^0 enable them to spend their time exclusively for the pur- 



208 SPEECHES DELIYEP.ED AT 

poses of science, but that they were impeded and disturbed 
by the feasts which were given them, and by other tokens of 
hospitality and regard with which they were received. I 
behove that such complaints were only made on the occasion 
of one meeting in Germ^any, at which I was not present ; but 
even if occasionally there have been some failures owing to 
this, the assertion nevertheless betrayed in its generalizing 
tone, an over- valuation of the knowledge that is collected, 
and a want of proper feeling for the universal and 
humanizing effect in the undertaking. The whole meeting 
is itself a festival, replete with the highest intellectual enjoy- 
ments, naturally combined with others of a lighter kind, 
which occurs with greater gain than loss, if all is regulated 
with moderation and with a purpose. 

Perhaps it may appear superfluous to spread this mis- 
understanding, in an assembly where the kindly feelings 
with which the hospitality of Sweden was last year accepted, 
and where the scientific activity which vfas so vividly* ex- 
pressed in the Gotheborg meeting, is still so fresh in our 
memories ; but whenever a false notion is proclaimed with a 
degree of confidence that might gain adherents to its cause, it 
is no useless matter to bring forward a contradiction ; for 
although the comprehension of the purpose of such societies, 
which is founded in their nature, will undoubtedly rise 
against all attempts to replace them by anything of a one- 
sided character, yet the approbation which such objections 
have gained from individuals, more or less disturbs the beau- 
tiful harmony which is a fundamental element of the essential 
character of our society. 

But I return to the effects which I think we may venture 
to expect from our undertaking in Scandinavia. Should it 
appear to you that I wander too far, I beg you will first con- 
sider, that thought naturally leads us to the most extreme 
boundaries of that which is attainable, and that in order to 
arrive at anything great and glorious, we must fix our eyes 
upon the aim it holds before us, although we know that Eeality 
everywhere places great obstacles in our path, which only 
permits us slowly and imperfectly to approach this aim. 

It is evident that the mutual services which naturalists 
Tender one another, and by which they are so strongly bound 
together, must be immensely increased by our meeting ; and 
while science is thereby promoted, friendship also becomes 



SCAXDIXAYIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 209 

more cordial and more vigorous, and congenial kindly dis- 
positions will be distributed by means of lectures, speeches, 
' or writings, through extensive spheres of activity, by all 
who enter into such alliances. 

At these meetings people from one country behold the scien- 
tific arrangements of another, and discourse about them, now 
with the most enlightened men of these countries, now with 
enlightened fellow-countrymen, who see things along with 
them, and therefore share, with the whole force of a fresh im- 
pression, in the criticism and correction of ideas. In every 
place we shall find something to imitate, and when nations 
receive good from one another, everybody gains, and mutual 
respect and kindliness is increased. 

One nation also hears the tongue of the other spoken, not 
merely in daily language, where it is often carelessly treated, 
but in carefully studied lectures ; and when they do hear the 
language of e very-day life, it is in its noblest form, in the more 
enlightened circles of society. In all this we may constantly 
learn something from one another. This is even the case 
in the pronunciation ; for without any uni'casonable attempt 
at amalgamation, we might with equal advantages smooth 
the path towards it, if guided by the example of others, we 
laid aside those inexactitudes in language which have not 
hitherto taken root ; and if, wherever custom was wavering, 
we endeavoured to agree upon that mode of pronunciation 
which appears best adapted to the common character and 
law of development of the northern languages. 

We shall also derive this benefit from oui* meetings, that 
we shall gradually abstain from censuring certain expressions 
employed by om- neighbours, which is such a frequent prac- 
tice between nations whose languages are nearly allied; and 
often, where a very ridiculous or disagreeable association of 
ideas is awakened in the people, by some particular word 
in use among their neighbours, we might ward off the offence, 
by abstaining from its employment in vaitten language. 

The improvements which may be introduced into our lan- 
guage are still more extensive, if one nation were to adopt 
some of the words belonging to the other. Sprung from one 
root, the one may in many cases be easily and properly 
enriched from the other. A successful commencement has 
already been made during the last half centmy. The Danish 
language has adopted several happy expressions from the 

P 



210 SPEECHES DELIYEEED AT 

Swedish. In spite of my diligent study of Swedish literature. 
I do not trust myself to say with certainty, whether some- 
thing similar has not occurred on the part of Sweden ; but 
I imagine that it is so. Among a variety of means which 
may promote this mutual enrichment of our languages, our 
present meeting will also hold a place, and by no means 
an insignificant one ; for language is of essential use in the 
powerful development of natural science. 

The importance which must be attributed to our under- 
taking appears still more forcibly, when w^e turn our looks 
inwardly. The manner in which natural science searches for 
reason which is revealed in nature, namely, by investigating, 
collecting, arranging, and weighing all that is offered by 
experience, has this important advantage, that we earlier 
arrive at an agreement in this than in any other science, 
except mathematics ; for no sooner have we discovered a 
new condition of nature, or have corrected a former mode 
of comprehension, than it immediately gains acceptance, not 
always without opposition, but seldom w^ith one more obsti- 
nate than is requisite for an impartial examination of the 
truth. Misapprehension cannot easily endure long w^here the 
subject under consideration can be represented in its sensible 
existence ; and self-love, by w^hich men are often led to the 
most obstinate assertions of previously adopted opinions, has 
not here such strong temptations to resist, w^here men are not 
so often conquered by the superior power of another mind, as 
by the sentence of nature herself. Therefore, also, in aU ; 
communications between naturalists, the feeling is evident 
that we do not merely communicate something of our own, ! 
but something which is discovered in nature ; thus, however 
great the merit of the discovery, it does not come forward 
so strongly as in most other sciences. But if there is a 
greater amount of repose in the natural sciences in com- 
parison with most others, it is yet no sign of a listless quiet. 
If we have fewxr struggles with one another, we have greater 
need to struggle with the obscurity which conceals from us ■ 
the revelation of reason, in the infinite variety of the physical 
%vorld. Our ancestors have left us many weapons for this 
purpose. Each new discoverer teaches again something new 
to his fellow- combatants. There is, therefore, a constant 
progress, a constant development in the natural sciences, 
and we may say, a constant fermentation ; in short, a mighty 



SCANDIXATIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 211 

activity of life, in which the destructive forces are not alLnved 
to ])rcvail, but are rapidly compelled to become constituent 
parts of new creations. 

With this inner life Natural Science approaches a great 
futm-e. The influence it has hitherto exercised in human affairs, 
however powerful, is trifling in comparison with that w^hich 
is still to be developed. I will not here speak of the great 
expectations which are cherished by every one, of the con- 
tinued improvement that Natm-al Science must shortly pro- 
duce, in ail the arts of peace and war — I share these expecta- 
tion^ even with the most sanguine — but their influence upon 
general intellectual improvement alone claims our attention 
here. The numerous discoveries which conduce to the 
business of life, are not unprofitable in this respect. Many 
who formerly lived constantly under the stupifying yoke of 
habit, are roused by each of these discoveries to the necessity 
of thinking, and many others are also awakened to a more 
powerful activity of their minds, by their endeavour to 
discover something new. We easily perceive how extraordi- 
narily extensive and prevalent this mental animation may 
become ; but Natural Science itself, regarded as a means of 
intellectual improvement, claims a far greater and wider 
influence than it has hitherto exercised. It is not yet 
included in the usual com^se of education ; at least not in that 
of our northern countries. I knovr that many are of opinion 
that this want may be repaired in a riper age; to w^hich I 
reply that this may be done in the same manner as in other 
branches of education, but by no means more easily. With 
the exceptions w^hich are always made for men of remark- 
able talent, learning does not properly combine with our 
natures, unless we have laid a foundation for it in childhood. 
So long as people talked of introducing the natural sciences 
into education merely because they saw that they contained 
a tolerable amount of acquirements, they repelled the most 
inteUigent instructors, and with justice, for education ought 
to be intellectual improvement. But it is not difficult to con- 
vince ourselves that there are talents in the child which cannot 
be fully developed, without the assistance of Natm'al Science. 
These talents proceed from a natural appreheiasion in the 
senses ; they are developed in the most various ways in 
daily life, though without arriving at that unity or that in- 
tensity which Natural Science can bestow on them. But since, 

p 2 



212 SPEECHES DELIYERED AT 

education, by the greater requirements of later centu- 
ries, must unavoidably be very artificial, the soul is pre- 
vented from freely yielding itself to nature ; it must now be 
again led back by artificial means, and this only takes place 
through Natural Science. 

As a branch of education, it has this higher aim to reach, 
to mingle the sensational with the rational comprehension, 
and so to succeed, that we may comprehend things as if 
Reason herself perceived them. I know that to attain this 
in perfection is impossible upon earth ; but to endeavour 
to attain it — to enjoy a glimpse of this intellectual life 
— is possible, and to that point the future education of 
posterity should more and more incline. It will not be easy 
to bring the methods of school instruction in the natural 
sciences to the same perfection as we have brought them for 
languages, and other older-established portions of education. 
But, nevertheless, we shall succeed, if we are only first 
generally sensible of their importance. 

I believe that if Natural Science were thus to constitute a 
large portion of general education, it would be followed in a far 
stronger degree by that effect which it has already begun to 
exercise during several centuries ; namely, by opposing that 
tendency towards subtilty and artifice, which is promoted in 
proportion to the one-sided development of other talents. 
Of course, I by no means say that other sciences should be 
neglected; on the contrary, I think that the development 
of Natural Science would be also defective, if it were not 
intimately united with the others. Of this I am convinced, 
that the energetic, present reality, the practical spirit, and, 
I may add, the powerful, onward- striving, yet glorious repose, 
which may be promoted by natural science, ought to form 
part of our existence. When this comes to pass, natural 
science will exercise a totally different and a greater influ- 
ence upon literature and cultivated life than it has hitherto 
done; and the co-operation of the naturalist in this future 
will also obtain a much greater influence than that which we 
have been hitherto inclined to grant it. 

It is therefore evident to me, that the just view concerning 
the advantage that would ensue from the greatest possible 
nnity of Scandinavian literature, which has arisen from the 
enlightenment of the times, has been greatly strengthened and 
extended by our Society. I repeat that I do not aim at an 



SCAXDINATIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 213 

amalgamation. Each of the Scandinavian nations will natu- 
rally form its own litcratiu'e and its own character ; but by 
means of a well-considered co-operation the literature of 
Scandinavia will be distinguished from that of other nations 
bv important peculiarities, so that with a noble self-conscious- 
ness we may appear as united Scandinavians to the whole 
world. 

If our literatures, with their valuable treasures, are but little 
known beyond the north, it is because they are many litera- 
tm*es, and not one ; if om- language is only understood in 
some few countries, it is because we allow strangers to be- 
lieve that the North possesses several languages ; because we 
do not represent the thing as it really is, namely, that we 
possess one common language, formed by our literatm'e into 
two dialects. By a mistaken national pride, we have sepa- 
rated ourselves, and caused strangers to imdervalue the pro- 
ductions of om' minds. Let us unite together ; let six millions 
of Scandinavians place their power in one scale, it will cer- 
tainly not be found wanting. 

But the same spirit which does not allow us to be only 
Danes, Swedes, or Norwegians, but requires that we should 
likewise feel our unity as Scandinavians, does not again per- 
mit us to be merely Scandinavians, but requires that we should 
feel ourselves members of the great confederation of all 
enlightened nations. Our meetings should not serve to isolate 
us from this, but to participate in it more independently, and 
with gi-eater vigom\ The scientific meetings of each nation 
may, in an European sense, be regarded as provincial meet- 
ings, but they must be again united. This may be effected by 
several among us frequently attending foreign meetings, even 
without any definite arrangement being made for the purpose ; 
but it would be beneficial if such a union could be secured by 
the co-operation of the state. I therefore consider it desi- 
rable, that the Government, which has already honom-ably 
supported these meetings, should contribute to this end by 
pecuniary assistance, whether it were agreed that it should 
select those persons who are to be assisted on their jom'ney, 
or whether it would not be better to allow them to be chosen 
by the scientific association to which they belong. 

It might perhaps conduce to a more comprehensive imity, 
if, every fifth year, persons selected from different countries, 
assembled at a still greater meeting: the elections for this 



214 SPEECHES DELIYERED AT 

purpose might be determined by the associations of the dif- 
ferent countries. 

I will venture upon one more proposal for the improve- 
ment of our Scandinavian meeting, in ho|)es that its members 
will examine it more closely, and thus bring it to a greater 
maturity, or that they will enlighten us upon its defects. I 
believe, namely, that it would be very useful, if our Scan- 
dinavian Naturalist Association were to choose a committee 
for each division of the country, who, in the interval of the 
meetings might secure our interests. This might be called 
the Senate of the Scandinavian Naturalists and Physicians, 
and would be in some measure to us what the " Council" 
is to the great English societies. The members might be 
chosen every two years. 

I conclude my address by welcoming our guests, who 
are fraternally united with us, and with the desire that the j 
hope which we entertain of a harmonious and vigorous co- 
operation in our great purpose, may be confirmed by an 
abundant and productive fulfilment. 

2. — Speech at the Opening of the Fifth Meeting of the 
Scandinavian Naturalists. 

It is with the utmost delight that I fulfil the honourable 
duty imposed on me, to welcome the Fifth Meeting of the 
Scandinavian Naturalists within these walls, where we retain 
such a lively and happy recollection of a former Meeting. I 
had also the honour to open that Meeting, and to express the 
thoughts and the sentiments which I believe prevailed among 
every one present. However much I may have failed in the 
manner I executed this duty, I had the great satisfaction to 
know that it was not considered that I had mistaken those 
sentiments. We were animated by the same spirit as that 
with which we commenced our work, and which has ruled it 
ever since. Our principal aim was to contribute to the-suc- 
cessful growth of Natural Science in the North; but as northern 
naturalists, we necessarily and gladly united another end, 
namely, to labour for a fraternal spirit in the North. ^Ve 
were desirous and v/ere compelled to keep within those 
bounds which were set before us by our own principal aim, 
and to leave to each individual member vrhat he chose to 
attempt for the same object, which lay out of our own sphere 



SCANDIXAYIAX SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 215 

of action. It will perhaps be found that these bounds are 
not so narrow as they might at first sight appear, but^ at any 
rate, they have this important advantage, that they exclude 
every addition which might oirer any occasion for dispute. 

The development of language is not the least of the en- 
leavours by which our Association can produce a fraternal 
spirit in the North. 

I have ventured to touch on this subject, both in our meet- 
ings at Gotheborg and in the last meeting at Copenhagen ; 
but however frequently it may be treated, it is still never 
exhausted. It was my intention, as far as lay in my power, to 
call forth reflections which might serve to make our efforts in 
the cause of Natural Science as useful as possible to our com- 
mon language. I call it common, with the same right, by 
which all the dialects which were spoken in ancient Hellas 
wei-e called Greek. There is undoubtedly the most perfect 
agreement amongst us, that our language is common to us 
all ; but that is not sufficient, this recognition must be con- 
stantly kept alive. That the mental efforts of the North 
may have a really great appearance beyond our own bounda- 
ries, and that they may be worthy of the North, we must 
stand forth as one community. We can imagine in what light 
the spirit of Germany would be exhibited, if the love of 
home was carried to such a length in every German state, that 
its inhabitants only desired to bear its own particular name ; 
if the Brandenbm-ger, the Hessian, the Saxon, tKe Wiirtem- 
berger, &c. &c. would no longer be called Germans, but 
each be denominated according to the state to which he be- 
longed, and if each maintained that he wrote the language 
of Brandenburg, of Hesse, of Saxony, or of Wiirtemberg, 
and thus in all the other States of Germany. Without 
descending to the smallest States, we might easily obtain a 
dozen names, but the distinction of names would iiave led to 
a real distinction. Each of these divisions would have en- 
deavoured to bring forward its own peculiarities of dialect, 
and particularly those which deviated in the greatest degree 
from the rest. Thus, in the course of time, a separation would 
have been brought about, which, if it did not entirely 
obscure, would yet have disturbed, in a perplexing manner, 
the glorious name of Germany. Luther, Copernicus, Albert 
Durer, Opitz, Kepler, Stahl, Leibnitz, Winkelmann, Les- 
sing,. Goethe, Schiller, Mozart, Kant, Bessel. would not 



216 SPEECHES DELIVERED AT 

then have become names which constitute the ornament of a 
great nation. 

^ It is true that the North is ah-eady divided between two 
dialects, which are distinguished by numerous works of talent; 
and that it is not possible, perhaps not desirable, that they 
should be amalgamated into one; but the reciprocal intercourse 
which subsists between brother-nations, and familiarity with 
their mutual works, will gradually draw them together, and 
thus both literatures will be accessible to any one who is 
sufficiently acquainted with one of the two dialects, which we 
may justly call languages, so far as they have each of them 
attained a high cultivation. In two of the kingdoms we 
have a perfect imity of language. Let us preserve this ! It 
certainly tends to our own vvell-understood common good, 
whereas the intellectual gifts and knowledge which are occa- 
sionally employed in an opposite direction decidedly produce 
general harm. This warning against every endeavour which 
aims at separating the languages, is naturally accompanied 
by no prohibition against the improvement which each of the 
neighbouring nations may bestow on its language by its own 
independent development : but the aim must be improvement, 
not separation, and the fraternal spirit must be its protection. 
This is not fundamentally different from what has happened 
up to the present time. The language which is written in 
Denmark and Norway is formed by the common works of 
their citizens, and so it must also remain. 

We shall then, besides, derive the advantage that one nation 
will be able to appropriate the discoveries, and the acquisitions 
which belong to the language of the other. There are many 
natural objects in Norway which do not appear in Denmark'; 
how willingly would we not adopt the words used to designate 
them ! indeed how often have we not done so ! Our Danish 
language may in the same way borrow from the Swedish, but 
in doing so we must make a few alterations with respect to the 
pectiliarities of the two dialects. But such appropriations are 
not alone confined to natural objects. There exists in each of 
the three neighbouring nations an independently-active spirit 
by which new effects and new mental creations are produced, 
and which must find means of expression in the different 
languages ; but this should not separate us from one another; 
for the spirit of the North dwells in the combined languao-es 
of the three neighbouring nations. The more we properly 



SCANDINAVIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 217 

understand ourselves, the nearer we shall approach one 
another ; and yet this approach will not prevent each from 
retaining his OAvn essential nature. But this must be main- 
tained in love, and with a brotherly feeling. 

I have been obliged to quit my particular subject for some 
moments, though only to make such preparations for it, 
that its importance may appear in a stronger light, and that 
many misunderstandings may be removed, to which I was 
exposed, when those exaggerations were ascribed to me, 
which are so often united with the endeavour which I ad- 
vocate so warmly. 

On a hasty glance it appears as if the development of 
Natural Science was not intimately connected with that of 
languages. The greatest part of science is replete with foreign 
words, which cannot be replaced by native ones without sub- 
jecting om-selves to an effort which would bring with it but 
small reward, and would also cause the most extreme con- 
fusion. It is true that there is a great deal in science which 
would lose its European utility, if it were too much clothed 
in the peculiar language of each nation. It would be blind- 
ness to deny this ; but on the other hand, we should faU into 
a still greater and more injurious error if we did not recog- 
nice the national view of Natural Science, and its claims 
in consequence, to a national treatment, and to a national 
development of language. 

Whilst a mass of knowledge is undoubtedly exhibited in 
the numerous details of Natural Science, which must always 
remain inaccessible to the multitude, even to the multitude of 
educated people, which knowledge is expressed in words, 
everywhere understood by scientific men, there is also a part 
of science which ought to become universal property. Some of 
the subjects belonging to this class have already received 
a name for ordinary life ; but as science progresses it will 
be necessary to invent new terms, and to disinter many 
old expressions. Those parts of science which are gene- 
rally popular, and which form such a large proportion of 
that which is able to be communicated, most particularly 
require that the expressions should be borrowed out of the 
language itself; for language contains a hidden philosophy 
which secretly animates the words so far as they are formed 
by the strength of their own essence. We must beware of 
adopting the translations of foreign woi'ds, unless the trans- 



218 SPEECHES DELIYEHED AT 

latecl expression is so constituted that we should hare been 
willing to form it om^selves, even if the foreign model had not 
been before our eyes. We must almost as much beware of 
forming words which express too much, and become a sort of 
definition. Such words are frequently hard, and still more 
frequently unmeaning, that is to say, unfit to denote all the 
distinctions which the development of the idea requires. 
Finall}^, it is very important to avoid those w^ords which are 
difficult to pronourice, and which generally have an unpleasant 
sound. Natural Science frequently places us in a position 
where we are obliged, like the first man, to give a name to 
a thing with whose existence we were previously unacquainted. 
We are naturally unable to make use of the original freedom 
of man, or even of that great freedom which is employed in 
the formation of systematic names in Natural History and in 
Chemistry, but we must content ourselves with drawing our 
expressions from the means which our language presents to 
us. All that we are authorised to do is, to employ them with 
a true mental freedom. Before any one attempts to form an 
expression for a scientific idea, he must first be complete 
master of the idea, and see the thing clearly before his eyes, 
as if he were going to discourse about it to an assembly of 
his distinguished fellow-countrymen. He must also, so to 
speak, search the language to discover whether it abeady 
contains a word which is fit to denote the idea, or whether 
perhaps certain laws of language, or only intimations of 
such, may serve him as a guide. The more an expression 
directly and from the commencement speaks to the natural 
sense of the language, w^e may according to rule be the more 
certain that we have hit upon the right expression, and that 
we have placed our ideas in connexion with the rest of 
the knowledge of the people. But we cannot form such 
w^ords and expressions with the rapidity which may be em- 
ployed in the construction of systematic names, which are 
formed according to certain rules : no ; here every suitable 
new expression is either a fortunate discovery or a welcome 
invention. These are collected together in the course of time 
by the united efibrts of many. The co-operators in this work 
must not be discouraged if many words do not afterwards 
prove suitable ; they must learn to know, that the less happy 
expressions may in the course of time harmlessly pass away ; 
but they are entitled to expect from the justice of theirf ellow- 



SCANDINAYIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 219 

'tizens, that the good which has been attained will not be 
rixotten amidst their less fortunate efforts. Meetings such 
- the present appear to me peculiarly adapted for such con- 
ilerations, and I am not without hope that we may accom- 
plish something to this purpose in the present association. 

I might perhaps be so fortunate as to find that you approve 
of all that I have said, but that you still regard the influence 
which Natural Science exercises upon languages as slight. It 
is of no small importance to prove, that the extent of its 
influence is very great and significant. 

Every one who contemplates the history of science will 
see what a great influence it has already had upon lan- 
guage, although it at first received but slowly and step by 
step a popular representation, and although hitherto it has 
reached but a small part of the extent to which it is destined 
in time to attain. How many names of scientific objects which 
were formerly only known to a few, it has conveyed to the 
minds of all educated people, and how many others it has itself 
constructed, and by that means given us expressions which 
may be also employed beyond the limits of actual Natui^al 
Science ! We must also recollect that it is very little more 
than two centuries since attempts were seriously made, though 
they were at first but feeble, to express scientific things in po- 
pular language, independent of the primitive Koman tongue. 
When the great astronomer Kepler in the year 1616 pub- 
lished a German extract from Archimedes, he found it neces- 
sary to give Latin translations of the German technical terms 
then in use, in order that those who had been hitherto accus- 
tomed to the Latin should understand it easier. Among these 
we meet with "Kraiss, — circularis linea ;" " Umbkraiss, — cir- 
cumferentia ;" " Bogen, — arcus ;" " Winkel, — angulus ;" and 
several still more familiar words,* which were certainly not 
new, but now appeared with that precision which must pecu- 
liarly belong to teclinical words. They became much more ex- 
tensively used as they were employed on innumerable occa- 
sions, where formerly only Latin words were admitted. It will 
be at once understood hovf much the use of German words 
enabled thousands to gain admittance to the fundamental 
truths of mathematics, to whom the Latin words of the science 
always remain somewhat strange. If we were only treating 

* I have borrowed this example from Carl von Raumer's *^ Versuch 
emer A.B.C.— Buchs der Crystallkunde.'' (Berlin, 1820.) 



220 SPEECHES DELIVERED AT 

about a few teclinical words, for instance, only about terms 
used in mathematics, it would not be a thing of any great im- 
portance, but we speak here of a universal law for the com- 
munication of science. I am aware that those philosophers 
who have not been engaged in popular communications, 
attribute very little importance to this transference of tech- 
j nical words into the mother-tongue ; but the importance is 

i sufficiently decisive to those who have themselves attempted 

popular communication. Bat we do not here speak of tech- 
nical words alone. This effort to introduce popular tech- 
nical w^ords is only part of a comprehensive endeavour to 
introduce popular modes of expression and popular represen- 
tations. I do not here refer to that endeavour towards a 
universal comprehensibility, which often leads to a discur- 
sive treatment of the subject, but only to such as, with- 
out sacrificing brevity and precision, attains its popularity 
alone through the simplicity, the aspect, and if I may so 
say, the naturalization of its expression. Even men of 
great learning in those departments where no communica- 
tion occurs, and whose knowledge of languages gives them 
the key to foreign technical words, will find that by means 
of that kind of popular communication we have here men- 
tioned, they will arrive at a far more lively, and at the 
same time a more direct comprehension of the subject. It 
will not be useless to illustrate this with a few examples. 
It is sufficiently known what is meant by the words barometer 
and thermometer , even the origin of these terms is familiar 
to those who understand Greek, and to many more besides. 
Nevertheless we frequently hear these words confounded, 
w^hich does not, however, proceed from ignorance, but because 
the ideas are not directly or sufficiently attached to the words ; 
II if we were to say air-pressure- indicator, heat-indicator, these 

i mistakes would cease. Foreign technical words also frequently 

lead to an artificial representation of things,^'' for example, 
" In order to judge of the weather, we must know the barome- 
trical, thermometrical, and hygrometrical condition of the 
air, and therefore we must make observations upon the baro- 
meter, thermometer, and hygrometer." Whereas if we keep 
closer to the mother-tongue, we shall say, " In order to judge 

* I have not taken these examples from any particular beok, but I 
formed them from expressions used in certain German and Danish 
works. 



SCAXDINATIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 221 

of the weather we must know the pressure of the ah', and 
the amount of heat and damp, which may be observed by 
means of the instruments intended for that purpose/* 

But it nlay still be objected that this cannot act very 
extensively, since Natui*al Science is not an affair of the 
people, t confess that hitherto it has been too little so ; 
but the whole com'se of development of the human race 
necessarily obliges it to become so more and more. I repeat 
what I already said at our first meeting in Copenhagen, 
with regard to this, that there is a great future before 
Natm-al Science. Regarded on one side this future already 
reveals itself in strong features ; namely, that the incalcu- 
lable benefits of natural science impels so many people to 
work in accordance with its dictates. Undoubtedly most 
people will do this without any knowledge of science, but 
they unconsciously gather fragments of it, which distribute 
many seeds for reflection. Others will strive after the know- 
ledge which lies at the foundation of their labours, and will 
thence have their minds directed towards science, and among 
these some will also be induced to cultivate that knowledge 
with a higher aim in view. But all these aids in its support 
are not the chief object here. Our attention is particularly 
turned to the influence which science may possess over general 
intellectual development, and indeed in consequence of its 
own nature. Although much has been already said upon this 
subject, it will still be necessary to recur to it for a long 
time to come. Man is connected with natm-e in countless 
ways. All the organs of his understanding are indeed natural 
objects, and subject to natural laws. Even most people who 
have no idea of Natural Science, are aware of many results 
which science has supplied on the meaning of what we witness 
by our senses, by the communications which, so to speak, have 
been transmitted to us from hand to hand; for instance, that 
the blue vault of heaven is not fixed, that the rainbovf is only a 
phenomenon of light, that the echo is a reverberation of sound, 
and innumerable other things of the same kind. It is the same 
with our living bodies. Much knowledge has passed out of 
Natural Science into daily life, and frequently indeed in a very 
obscure manner ; the more our mental life is developed, we 
shall feel still further impelled to obtain a clear and connected 
knowledge concerning it, and the more science is enabled by 
its progress to satisfy such desires, they will assume a more 



222 SPEECHES DELIVEEED AT 

animated and determined position ; but this will also happen 
with respect to all our relations with the outer world. We 
are incessantly receiving impressions from the weather, and 
we stand in the most various relations to the climate in 
which we live. Were we not so much accustomed to the 
universal ignorance of the laws whence these effects proceed, 
would it not appear absurd ? But this ignorance begins to 
be dissipated by a desire for knowledge, which will continue 
to increase with the development of the mind, as well as by 
the advancing aids of science, through which our questions 
may be answered. The same may be applied to our relations 
with the whole of nature, with a few alterations which may 
be easily imagined. Every step on earth causes us to per- 
ceive a testimony of the past ages of the globe. The clearer 
the insight w^e possess by means of which we cultivate the 
earth by agriculture, so much the more shall we endeavour to 
understand its condition, and this will be the case in a still 
higher degree with respect to the natm-al laws of vegetation. 
Ought there not to come a time when every enlightened 
labourer may delight in his knowledge of the inward struc- 
ture of the seed, and the laws of germination, the laws for 
the nourishment of plants, their silent respiration, &:c. ? In 
a superficial comprehension of the subject it will be said, 
and not without an apparent foundation, that what science 
is able to communicate upon all these things is partly too 
meagre and partly too learned ; but they forget that we here 
speak of a future time, and of one indeed which is tolerably 
distant. It will readily be allowed that in the course of time 
science will yield a much more perfect knowledge, but I must 
add that, taken as a whole, its results will be also much more 
clearly expressed, according to the greater degree of inward 
perfection which it has reached. In the endeavours which 
will be made in the course of a long period of time which lies 
before us, to render science accessible, many new ideas must 
offer themselves, and along with them also numerous occasions 
for new expressions. We must remember that we here speak 
of all that can be comprehended in the heavens or on the earth, 
wdiich is matter of instruction to mankind in general. Even 
the science of language will by this means make a new start, 
and in certain directions gain a previously unknown richness, 
which will also exercise an influence in many other w^ays. 
With all this development before our eyes, I can only desire 



SCAXDINATIAN SCIENTIFIC MEETINGS. 223 

that, as true Scandinavian brothers, ^ye may work together 
for the improvement of oui' northern language, or if you will, 
for our several northern languages. 

I am rejoiced to leave imdisturbed the thought of much 
that has been already done to remove the impediments for 
such a future, as vrell as the steps which we have already 
begun to make in its advance. How much the dark preju- 
dices, which the mists of ancient times have spread over our 
north, and which have been cherished and nurtured by aver- 
sion and hostility between neighbouring countries, have now- 
vanished before the light of knowledge, which we may hope 
will never be again obscm^ed. Our Naturalist Associations 
stood in the foremost rank among the greatest of those pub- 
lic demonstrations, but they were by no means the only ones. 
We have seen youth with generous enthusiasm wander from 
one kingdom to the other, only to form acquaintance, friend-- 
ship, and brotherhood. It is delightful to observe so many 
pilgrimages for the sake of enlightenment and love, however 
small they are in proportion to the events of the world, in 
which the large mass of the people step forward. It may be 
a great satisfaction to us all, to see the North governed by 
two enlightened and highly- cultivated sovereigns, who pro- 
mote this Scandinavian endeavour towards intellectual im- 
provement. This feeling receives a still greater life and 
sti'ength by the presence at this our opening Meeting of the 
noble king of the country, who, if his exalted position did 
not call him to other duties, would be a distinguished par- 
ticipator in our labours, and who has besides in many ways 
favom-ed our undertaking with his enlightened benevolence. 
I am convinced I speak in the name of all when I here offer 
him our earnest and respectful thanks. 

Therefore, with the most joyful anticipations, I open this 
^•■iv fifth Scandinavian Natm-alist Association. 



OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 



The two following addresses are not indeed of a scientific nature, but 
they spring from a scientific contemplation of the world, in which 
religion and morality are both included. No new religion or code of 
morals is to be derived from them, but they bear the stamp of the spirit 
in which they were written. One of the most enlightened and reflecting 
naturalists of the North thus comprehended them, after reading the first 
of the two addresses which are now communicated. We only insert 
these works in the present collection, with the desire to prove more and 
more how the comprehension of the highest aim of the human mind, 
which proceeds from a scientific view of the world, not only accords with 
the convictions which we all possess in common, but may also contribute 
to throw greater light upon the subject. 



I. — The relation between the Young and Old^ with especial 
reference to Yoimg Men on their first entrance into the 
World, A Speech delivered on the Anniversary of the 
Society ''' for Posterity^'' the 4:th March,, 1844. 

I HAVE been mucli gratified by the honourable invitation 
which I have received, to address this highly respected circle 
on the present occasion. I consider it a summons to speak ■ 
at the meeting of a society whose foundation originated in 
disinterested love to our fellow creatures and our country, 
and which owes its steady support to a social spirit which 
did not expire with the founder, or with the first friends of 
the institution, and whose present condition is not less pros- 
perous and hopeful than in the period of its vigorous youth. 
Its greatest achievement, the schools whence so many active 
and in part highly meritorious men have proceeded, continue to 
labour for youth, with undiminished, we may indeed say with 
increasing eflPect, and thence to sow seeds which will germi- 
nate and branch out into an unseen future. We ought never 
to lose an opportunity of bestowing praise on the silent 
conquests which are made in the service of mankind, by 
sowing the seed of knowledge, and by the encouragement of 
intellectual improvement ; as these are outshone in the daily 



OF THE SCHOOL IX LIFE. 225 

coui-se of things, by the glare surrounding many other under- 
takings which are often iar less beneficial. 

In connection with these sentiments, I am naturally desi- 
rous that, by my present address, I may be able to contribute 
my small portion to the object of the society. I have there- 
fore chosen a subject for my discourse to which I have 
been long attached. It has grieved me much latterly to 
observe how frequently the relative position of the young and 
old has been comprehended with opposite prejudice, which, 
not permitting the conciliating truth to be constantly and 
openly displayed, has therefore prevented it from being 
developed as strongly as it ought to be, though it has 
cften silently asserted its practical validity. I have viewed 
this relative position with the same eye as the natural philo- 
sopher views nature. He first endeavours to discover the 
law by which all things are governed, and afterwards more 
readily distinguishes the meaning of each individual law. 
In the same manner, we are able in our investigations to turn 
our attention to the law of existence, by which the life and 
action of the rational being is governed, and by that means 
we most clearly perceive the rights of each individual 
portion. 

The extent of the subject, the narrow limits of a speech, 
and even the pm-pose of the present meeting, must determine 
me to confine my task to the relation which exists between 
those of our ovra sex, and especially between those who 
belong to an earlier, and those of a more advanced stage of 
life. 

I request the patience of my fellow- citizens, and the atten- 
tion of my young friends ; for even if I bring forward many 
things which are not specially intended to apply to them, 
we shall yet mention some which are nearly connected with 
theii* own welfare ; and with reference to those of a riper 
age, I hope that the chief substance of my address may be 
sufficiently clear to them. 

There have been many wise proverbs and maxims on the 
relation between the young and old, which have been for the 
most part kno\^^l since the most ancient times, and which 
circulate from mouth to mouth, without however, exercising 
a proper influence on human life ; indeed, the fidl truth of 
their meaning is only first clearly understood when the 
proper time for their application is past. A thorough exami- 

Q 



226 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

nation of this remark, whose influence extends far beyond 
the range of thought within which we will at present 
keep, would lead me beyond the limits of my address ; I can 
here only call attention to the fact, that those proverbs are 
■usually proffered in the form alone of experiences. This 
contributes much to weaken their effect. They have not 
actually been experienced, and therefore fail in the sensiblv 
restraining power which they otherwise possess. To those 
who have not themselves mentally comprehended and exa- 
mined the experiences from which these maxims are taken, 
they exist as empty abstractions, and are treated with indif- 
ference as trivialities. Added to this, those who have ap- 
pealed to these maxims have been frequently led to their 
adoption, merely by an indistinct variety of impressions, so 
that they are not aware of the true meaning of the proverb 
that is cited, and consequently cannot properly apply it. All 
these misapprehensions may be of course remedied, if the 
matter is placed in the light of reason. This may be done, 
and has happened in various ways ; but I have selected one 
method which, as far as I know, has not hitherto been tried, 
and which seems to me capable of placing my object in the 
most intimate connection with life itself. 

In all that occurs, for which we can trace a general pur- 
pose and a rule, we say, in other words, that it obeys a law. 
That an unsupported body falls, that the seasons continually 
succeed one another in the same order, that our blood is in 
constant circulation, are all examples of such laws ; which 
have besides been better developed and determined, by 
Natural Science. But the same fixed laws prevail, not alone 
in mere material nature, but also wherever the spiritual is 
expressed, although they are often concealed, because the 
effects which take place in conformity to very different laws, 
here cross each other far more frequently than in material 
nature ; but it is easy to find a considerable number of 
examples even here, which in spite of those causes are suffi- 
ciently evident; for instance, that light rejoices, that darkness 
terrifies, that uniformity fatigues, that arrogance excites ene- 
mies. Further, the whole of existence, and not merely por- 
tions of it, is governed by laws, and these again are not a mere 
collection of laws, but one whole, in which one part cannot 
be considered without the other. They are, finally, not to be 
considered as the work of a blind irrational necessity, which 




OF THE SCHOOL IX LIFE. 227 

IS in itself a chimera, but they constitute one whole all- 
embracing and penetrating dominion of Reason, in which even 
the abuse (that is, the unreasonable emplo}Tnent) of freedom, 
may awaken powers which cause the eflects of evil to serve 
the ends of Reason. 

Viewed in this light, those things which seemed to be only 
connected with the material world, receive a spiritual sig- 
nification, and those precepts which appeared arbitrary bear 
a stamp of reason, without which they w^ould be viewed with 
dislike by the free spirit. In order to comprehend the 
impression thus made, we must retain a lively and active 
contemplation of it in our minds. The mere recognition of it 
is useless. 

Let us now turn our consideration to the dijfferent ages of 
man. Each is designed to make a peculiar progress in the 
development of the being which it embraces ; but, at the 
same time, it exercises a very important influence on those 
beings w^hich are in other stages of life. 

We all know that the child is not merely appointed to 
replace the loss which death occasions in the numbers of 
mankind, or to increase those numbers, but that it is also 
destined to take part in the advancing development of the 
human race. I may pass very briefly over such well-known 
things ; I might indeed omit them entirely, if I did not wish 
this very hour to recall them vividly to our contemplation. 
We should be astonished at the rapid development of the child, 
both physically and mentally, if habit had not familiarised us 
to it. But yet this does not prevent the liveliest interest 
being awakened in those who daily watch the child. It has 
been often, and truly, remarked, that at the earliest age, 
it learns proportionately more than in any period of equal 
duration in after-life ; and even at a more advanced period 
of childhood great progress is made, if proper nourishment 
is afforded to the mind. Actual childhood, which naturally 
does not last equally long vdth all children, has clearly its 
own peculiar method and mode of development, only to a 
certain degree dissimilar in all. If anything is neglected at 
this period, it is more difficult to be retrieved than it would 
have been to acquire it at the proper time ; and if the natural 
measure of capacity is overstepped in any one direction — for 
instance, if the child is given too much instruction — the true 
■ and healthy equilibrium is often lost during the whole of life. 

I 



228 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

Childhood, thus, has its peculiar scheme of development, 
which can neither be perfectly replaced at another period of 
life, nor can it be usefully anticipated. It is true that the 
extent within which all this holds good is limited, and that 
we may sometimes successfully recover what at an earlier 
period was neglected. But this does not prevent us from 
recognising the natural law, although an exception may 
indeed be made for those endowed with unusual powers of 
mind. 

We might be easily led to think that the child only lives for 
its own development ; but we need only consider the matter 
somewhat more closely, to discover that, unconsciously, it 
bestows much, while apparently it only receives. Every one 
knows that the pleasure which men derive from children, is 
not confined to the parents, but is shared by all around. This 
pleasure embraces elevating impressions, which, though they 
are seldom accounted for, are nevertheless received. The 
picture of innocence which we behold in the child, is not 
without its influence on us. The feeling of a disposition 
and an inclination to kindly actions, which is awakened with- 
in us by the sight of a child, and which is connected with a 
sensation of power, though apart from pride and haughtiness ; 
the feeling of love which is thence aroused within us ; all 
this is not lost on ourselves, though we do not express it in 
books. The parents, silently and unnoticed, become teachers, 
in endeavouring to assist the child in its powers of compre- 
hension and thirst for knowledge; and thoughts previously 
slumbering are frequently roused within them. As the 
child advances, new tasks are imposed on the grown-up man, 
which are not without their use to him ; for he must indeed 
be more attentive to his own improvement, if he does not 
wish to be inwardly ashamed of himself before the child. 
But this shame does not arise from vanity, — it is not produced 
by the child ; it is allied to that modesty which we could 
imagine a man would feel, were he conscious that an angel 
stood beside him. 

So closely is the life of the child connected with the 
development of the grown-up man. And yet all that I have 
been able to say upon this subject is far from exhausting it. 

I cannot, however, quit the youthful period in the life of 
man without mentioning that the love which springs from the 
reciprocal influence between the child and those of a riper age 



OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 229 

surrounding it, is itself a law of existence, whose connection 
with the nature of things we have now partly beheld, and 
which exercises a wide and comprehensive iniiuence on the 
life of society in general. It need scarcely be mentioned, 
that all this exists even in greater force in the love between 
parents and children. We now pass from the period of 
actual childhood, to that which exists between it and youthful 
manhood. 

There is, of course, here also, a certain education best 
adapted to this stage of life. I may be very brief on this 
point. It is that kind of education which is afforded by the 
best schools, and which is chiefly determined by the nature 
of the tiling, to which also must be added the stage of 
development of that particular time ; but we must also 
acknowledge that the condition of our schools may still 
deviate much from what they ought to be if they followed 
the path of nature; which deviations either may and must 
be removed at no short distance of time, or at any late 
must be cleared away at a somewhat further stage of de- 
velopment. Nevertheless, when the youth begins to look 
beyond the limits of the school, he feels an ardent desire 
to be able to step at once into the rank of young men of a 
riper age, and in order that he may share their freedom, 
he gladly chooses their labours. This desire may sometimes 
nroceed from a 2:ood motive, but it is often merely an un- 
seasonable wish to free himself from a useful restraint, and 
it is then to be lamented if the parents or guardians yield 
to it. My situation in life has given me an opportimity to 
gather experiences with regard to this, which are in perfect 
accordance with what we have already learned from the reflec- 
tion and experience of many centuries ; for instance, that at a 
certain age the bodily labour which a young man is usually 
subject to, cannot be undertaken beneficially, but that it 
rather injures the health, and along with it the physical 
development ; and this is also the case with mental labour. 
The studies which are assigned to the youth at the age when 
he leaves the more advanced schools, do not merely require 
preparation, but also a certain maturity of the powers of the 
mind, without which the more independent manner of study- 
ing does not lead to the object in view. Many young men 
who can make considerable progress in various and difficult 
sciences, by the aid of the daily assistance w^hich the schools 



t 



230 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

afford, will advance but lamely and insecurely in the very 
same branches, if they study under those conditions which are 
offered by the university. 

In our consideration of the reciprocal influence between the 
boy and the adult, we will for the sake of brevity especially 
notice the relation between father and son. The former 
has to overcome fresh difficulties during the transition of the 
child to the age of boyhood ; but he at the same time enters 
on a new and higher sphere of action. Along with the 
understanding of the boy a force of will is developed which 
may lead to evil or to good ; he must be guided, even some- 
times compelled, to submit to reason, but yet in such a manner 
that the elasticity of his mind be not weakened. The amiable 
feelings on which severity is founded, are often imperceptible 
to the son who submits with inward dislike to the paternal 
power. The instruction which the son must now receive 
is more varied and of a superior order. Even if the father is 
able to commit part of his anxiety to a school, there still 
remains no small proportion of guardianship and responsi- 
bility in his own hands. But the father is not alone led 
to reflection and anxiety by affection for his son ; much 
self-denial and many powerful exertions are also required of 
him. By this means his mind rises to a higher degree of 
maturity, and the dignity of a parent becomes to him more 
than an empty name. 

He is thus self-rewarded. But how infinitely more the 
son himself gains by this conduct, without especially noticing 
the affection whence it proceeds. It is a beneficial thing for 
him if he recognises it at the proper time. 

The relation between the tutor and the pupil is allied to 
the relation between father and son. If the teacher is not a 
mere hireling, he will be inspired both with a love for his pro- 
fession, as well as for him whom he instructs, and thus he 
will entertain only fatherly feelings to his pupil; on the 
other hand, a child-like love will be developed in the youth, 
which will be the more vividly excited, the more he is a true 
disciple of his teacher. 

In order not to render my address too extensive, I have 
been forced to confine it within such narrow limits that 
maternal love could find no place. I have thus omitted a 
great deal that would have promoted the end I have in view ; 
but my young auditors will nowhere find it so easy to supply 



OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 231 

the gap as here, where the constant recuiTence of maternal 
love and care, in the numerous benefits which are obvious 
even at the moment of acceptance, will always be vividly 
i-emembered by the yoimg ; whereas the father, more fre- 
quently restraining, commanding, and chastening, is in fact 
compelled to express himself in actions where the kindly feel- 
ings which prompted them lie more deeply concealed. Yet 
the force and the determination of the father sometimes make 
a greater impression on the son. This is not a bad sign; 
but let him at the same time remember the gratitude and 
reverence which he owes to the infinite love and care of the 
mother's heart. 

We now turn our attentiX)n to the period of youth. Its 
earlier portion commences in the more advanced schools, and 
therefore has abeady been considered ; but the independent 
life of a young man after he has quitted school, which I call 
in a more limited sense the period of youth, has a new 
signification. There generally lies between school and this 
young man's life a period of study for those who do not 
complete all the instruction ofiered by the more advanced 
schools, which in spite of important difierences, is a kind of 
protracted school. Of this, however, I do not mean to treat 
here. The period of youth which we are now considering 
has naturally its determined Kmits. It ought freely to de- 
velop the character till it has reached the maturity of man- 
hood. The physical powers, the faculty of the judgment, the 
experience of the world, here make giant strides, if a proper 
regulation is maintained. Next follows the slower develop- 
ment of manhood. The bloom of youth and the maturity of 
manhood are similes which have been often used, and they 
really accord with nature ; we must not, however, forget that 
here, also, the limits are not sharply defined, but that they 
admit of various transitions. 

In other words, youth is the nearest preparation for that 
period of life which is the longest in dm^ation, and which at 
the same time influences most deeply the condition of human 
society. The self-development which the youth has to ac- 
complish at that age is already pointed out for him by 
human society, in accordance with that which is prompted by 
reflection and experience, although in every century it naturally 
receives farther improvement. There also exists at this age 
a strong, natural, onward- striving, which often degenerates 



232 OP THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

into a desire to meddle with that which belongs to the 
succeeding stage of life, and a wish to exercise an important 
influence on society or science ; but, if we make some excep- 
tions in favour of a few extraordinary men, this is opposed 
to the nature of things, and therefore brings along with it its 
own punishment. Many of my young auditors are now ap- 
proaching the age of which we are at present treating. Resist 
the insidious seductions which would tempt you to sacrifice 
your youth to the occupations of manhood! You thence 
overleap a period of life rich in joys, and still richer in 
seeds for a more important future. Be persuaded that he 
only who has been a genuine youth, in the actual sense 
of the word, will afterwards become a genuine, many-sided, 
and well-cultivated man, and at the conclusion of his path 
be a truly wise old man. But I do not wish that you 
should accept this from my words alone ; I challenge you to 
inquire with me into the case itself, and to examine whether 
I represent it to you in a false light. The law of existence 
towards which I would direct your attention, rests on what^i^i 
have already said. Every period of life has its essential sig- 
nification in the life of man ; something peculiar happens in 
each to further the development of mankind, and that which 
is contributed by one age cannot be perfectly supplied by any 
other. Hence he who admits the justice of this law, believes 
at once in a regulated order in life. But a truth is not always 
accepted with that vivid appropriation which determines our 
actions. This only happens when the thought coincides with 
the mental perception. I therefore invite you to take part with 
me in an ideal experiment. Let us imagine a young man, 
in the transition between school and the independent period of 
youth, in such a position that he feels himself called upon to sup- 
port an otherwise helpless family — for instance, young orphan 
brothers and sisters ; let us also suppose that he possesses 
sufficient abilities to acquire all that is necessary for himself, 
and the proper consideration to procure superintendence, 
education, and instruction for these brothers and sisters. 
Will he then have an opportunity to improve himself in the 
same way as other young men who have no such duties to 
perform ? He certainly will not stand still during this period i 
in a very short time he will reach the maturity of manhood, 
and he will find a great reward in the affectionate gratitude 
of his brothers and sisters, in the respect of his fellow- citizen s> 



OF THE SCHOOL IX LIPE. 23(i 

and above all, In the testimony of his own conscience. ^\Tio 
would estimate these rewards lightly? They may balance 
the loss, they may even far outweigh it ; but there has been 
a loss and a severe op.e. I will not speak of the obstacles 
which the youth may have to overcome in order to attain a 
certain degree of success. I will even suppose that some turn 
of fortune fully repaired this want ; he will still lose the pecu- 
liar development which always accompanies youth. Cheerful 
and free from care, the period of youth, if not abused, develops 
an inward health and strength which does not flourish in un- 
favourable conditions. The youth in ordinary circumstances 
vastly enlarges his store of knowledge, and, what is of still 
more importance, he forms his world of thought with an 
independence w^hich, at an earlier period, during the immatu- 
rity of his faculties, was denied to him, and which in man- 
hood he never again possesses in such freedom, even should 
h<^ be in possession of an independent fortune ; for at a 
certain point in the development of his faculties, he makes- 

aer demands on himself, and enters into greater intercourse 
h the world, so that he must learn and practise totally 
different things. If such a one, contrasted with him who too 
early becomes a man, were only to have a moderate degree of 
the manly faculties developed, he may probably, unless com- 
pelled by external circumstances, remain longer a youth ; 
but this is far from being an advantage, and is only a w^ant of 
participation in a higher stage of development. The imagi- 
nation and the world of thought in the youth are gradually 
developed beyond the healthy barriers within which inter- 
course with the world would confine them ; he acquires an 
over-refinement in certain thoughts and feelings — a certain 
false and hollow cultivation which is neither adapted to youth 
or manhood, nor indeed to any age. In every highly-cultivated 
period of time there is a tendency towards this perversion; 
and the present is far from being exempt from it. 

I dwelt above, for some time, on the loss which the young- 
man sustains who nobly sacrifices his youth at the command 
of duty. We all felt that he also received a great compensa- 
tion for a great loss ; but, on the other hand, imagine a youth 
who, with thoughtless confidence in his own talents, was de- 
sirous to interfere with the- management of the state. What 
compensation does he receive for having overleapt the most 
important age of preparation ? He must not allow himself to 



234 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

be misled, by a deceptive imagination, to suppose that the 
power of doing something great for mankind is immediately 
within his grasp. It is unnecessary to overleap the short 
period of youth. While he is making his preparation, the 
world does not pass so rapidly that he will lose the oppor- 
tunity of performing a great action, if he has the requisite 
ability. To be perfectly free, the young man must revel in the 
great kingdom of thought and imagination; there is a struggle 
there, in which, if he falls, it is easy for him to rise again ; 
there is freedom of utterance there, which draws after it no 
irreparable consequences on society, and therefore imposes 
neither that inward nor outward responsibility which disturbs 
the soul and enfeebles its cheerful elasticity. It is with 
pleasure that I recur to that happy existence, when I lived 
in this onward- striving contest, where each day overcame 
a new difficulty, gained a new truth, or banished a pre- 
vious error. That I had not yet entered into the business 
of the state, threw no cloud over this world of light. It 
did not occur to me to doubt that an efficient cultivation 
of my faculties would certainly afterwards obtain for me a 
suitable place in society. The history of my youth is not 
essentially different from that of many others who have had 
the happiness not to deviate from the path appointed to them 
by nature. I merely relate my own experience because it is 
mine, and on that account is the most visibly certain to 
myself; but I know that you may see it confirmed by many 
other examples. 

However, you scarcely require them ; for each of you who 
already look beyond the barriers of the school, will find that 
nature and truth testify to this within yourselves. 

We must turn towards the reciprocal influence which exists 
between the youth and his parents. If the father has not 
lost the confidence of his son, and if the son has no secrets 
to hide from his father, a friendship is developed between 
them, which improves and elevates both parties. Of course, 
this must not happen with the sacrifice of character on either 
side ; but rather with the resignation of one-sided inclinations. 
If the proper relation is observed, the father is enabled, 
through the son, to regard the younger portion of the world 
with increased sympathy ; and, on»the other hand, the son, by 
the aid of the father on one side, obtains a view into the world 
of action, in which he himself is one day to be a useful 



OF THE SCHOOL IS LIFE. 235 

co-oporator, and on the other obtains a retrospective view of 
the life of young men in past days, which must enlarge his 
present contemplation of the world. Confidential intimacy 
increases with age. The son himself becomes a man and a 
father; and his children again thi'ow the light of another dawn 
on the evening of the old man's life. 

In accordance with this, we shall gladly confess that all 
true, kindly intercourse between the old and young, exercises 
an elevating influence on both sides ; for it adorns life, and 
counteracts the wearying one-sidedness which so entirely 
exhausts the life of youth. 

Do not misunderstand me, and imagine that I would do 
away with the natural divisions of life. No, the old proverb 
that like should sort with like, is an actual law of life. It is 
rather the complete separation which I condemn, in conse- 
quence of which, as we often see, young men avoid scientific 
communications with their eiders, and these, in a similar 
manner, shun all social intercourse with the young. This 
division is injurious, and is opposed to the true natm-e of 
things, which requii'es a kindly afiectionate co-operation ; for 
such is the rational law of life in respect to this relative 
position. This, however, does not apply to an unconscious 
nature, but we ourselves are directed to practise and to main- 
tain it with independence. There exist within us faculties and 
powers, which are designed to obey this independent Reason, 
which, however, we often exercise without its guidance, and 
thus disturb the harmony of Reason. How can I name all 
the inclinations and passions which must here be guided 
and led in the right direction ? Let me only mention one, 
which is connected with many others — our necessary inclina- 
tion to maintain our independence. How often does this 
not degenerate into an unjustifiable mortification at seeing 
the same impulse in another ! How often has either the 
father's love of ruling, or the son's pride, caused two hearts 
to be estranged which ought to have been most intimately 
attached to one another! Still the requisite condition of 
Reason conspicuously preponderates ; partly because we are 
reasonable beings, though often very limited ones, partly 
because all existence is an infinite reasonable whole in 
which the unreasonable destructively works against itself. 
A perfect and pure existence of Reason is an Ideal, which 
neyer can be attained on earth ; but let any one regard what 



236 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

most immediately surrounds him, and he must be very unfor- 
tunate, or have a very indistinct vision, if he does not dis- 
cover in this reality, poor though it be compared to the 
Ideal, a large sum of kindness, co-operation, and mutual 
assistance, by which one age is bound to the other. He 
will then see, that if he contributes to the dominion of the 
law of Reason, he attaches himself to that which forms the 
truth of Existence. 

While I continue to turn towards that class of my young 
auditors who in a short period are going to make their entrance 
into the world, I must yet, before I conclude, draw your atten- 
tion to the manner in which the elder portion of the world must 
be judged with regard to their activity in science, society, and 
amidst mankind. There are many who, from a praiseworthy 
zeal for the progress of human society, desire a more rapid 
fulfilment of things than is really possible. They expect all 
from the fire of youth. It is said, the improvement of the 
world should begin with youth. This saying is self-evident, 
if we understand by it that a great portion of the defects we 
are not now able to remedy will be removed by the young 
men of the present day, when they have so far advanced 
towards the stage of manhood as to have gained sufficient 
influence on the course of aStilrs ; but if it is expected that 
youths, as such, should govern the events of the world, then 
it is every way opposed to the natural course of things. Let 
us consider the true state of the matter. Each period receives 
from the preceding one, various arrangements and conditions 
which no longer suit the development which is then attained; 
and the more rapidly the development advances, so much 
the more sensibly will this be felt. By the progress peculiar 
to the period, many things will gradually become obsolete. 
Some errors may be removed, but there are a great number 
which, in consequence of the nature of the thing, require 
several generations to be overcome ; indeed, in some cases it 
is scarcely possible that others should not be added, as the 
removal of certain errors is apt to create fresh ones. In the 
inheritance which our predecessors have left behind them, 
there is much which we must struggle against, and remove ; 
but do not let us dwell on this exclusively, and hence allow 
our mental vision to be so confused that we yield to that 
false view of the world which would make us believe that our 
ancestors were men of limited capacities, without independ^ 



OF THE SCHOOL IX LIFE. 237 

ence and ^yItllout power. Let us open our eyes to the immense 
inheritance of hiws, sciences, and regulations, which we have 
received from them. Our century, as each preceding one, will 
do no more than leave this inheritance enlarged and im- 
proved. The next generation will again be in the same 
relati6n to the one which succeeds it, and how really can it 
be otherwise, so long as the human race is in progress? 
Only he who closes his eyes to the great reality, and who 
vath mental blindness, desires to be other than a part in 
the natural arrangement of human society, can be displeased 
with this view. But you, my young friends, may rejoice 
that this centm-y offers you a richer inheritance of knowledge 
and intellectual development than any previous period of 
time had left to its succeeding one. Along with this, it 
summons you to far greater labours, which you will have 
to overcome, now to clear away the refuse of former times, 
now to co-operate in new creations. Eejoice in the power 
which you feel unfolded within you, and in the promising 
time which lies open to you ; but do not forget that those 
who retire from the theatre of the world at your en- 
trance, have struggled and labom-ed, as you in your turn 
will have to struggie and labour, and as again, in a period 
which is short in the history of the world, it will be the task 
of your descendants. In your judgment of the old, and 
especially of those who have done much to benefit human 
society and science, I beg you will always remember that 
every one of these men have had their appointed mission in 
this world, and for their fulfilment of this we must thank and 
honour them. He who in the best years of his life has given 
a direction to his powers by which something very excellent 
has been accomplished, afterwards appears to the multitude 
so much the more superfluous, the more perfectly he has 
executed his task; should he still possess great and useful 
faculties, he is in a manner expected, after the completion 
of his work, to commence a new path. I beg you will also 
consider, that, except his inner consciousness, there is no 
fairer possession for a man to gain, than the acknowledg- 
ment from his fellow- creatures, of the services which he has 
done to the world. Never abuse this holy property, though, 
as may easily happen, you should stand opposed on the field 
of politics or science, to men of well-earned reputation. 
Truth does not require the abuse of what is right in order to 



238 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

obtain the victory. Should any one feel the power within 
him to produce something extraordinary, let him consider 
that by the abuse of this property he prepares to commit a 
robbery on that which he himself is desirous to gain. 

As the w^hole of this address has been given to exhibit the 
bond of love and reciprocal dependence which binds all ages 
of human life to one another, it may appear as if I were 
desirous, on principle, that all struggles in the world were 
removed. This w^ould be as foolish as to hope for the de- 
struction of all evil in the finite world. I cannot deny the 
truth which the poet has so happily expressed, that all, 

Even to the smallest part, 
Changes between Kate and Love. 

But the number of false notions which have been enter- 
tained concerning the relations between the different periods 
of human life, and which by a sort of half truth have crept 
into favour, weaken the bonds of love, and scatter the powers 
which ought to be united. If the present time were a period 
of kindliness and love, which, however, tended to pass into 
an effeminate state of thought, I w^ould then be on the side 
of those who might desire to introduce a more stirring 
activity into the repose which threatened stagnation ; but 
this is unnecessary now : we are, at the present moment, 
obliged to look round amidst a variety of party strifes in life 
and in science, to judge correctly how we shall maintain 
peace, that w^e may be able to fight with undi^^ded powers 
for the j:eal good. 

Let the old remember that they have once been young, 
and that Youth is the seed of the Future : let the young 
consider that they themselves will one day be old, and that 
they will then see a new generation before them. Finally, 
let all remember that every age, in spite of many differences, 
is still, in consequence of the eternal law of Existence, bound 
together by a common bond of love. 



OF THE SCHOOL IX LIFE. 239 



2. — A speech delivered on the reception of Young Students as 
Acade^nical Citizens."^ November 1821.f 

The illustrious Plato viewed the state as a living being, in 
which each class of the citizens represented a particular mem- 
ber, so that the whole state appeared as an image of human 
natui-e. In the same manner every smaller, yet efficient and 
well-ordered society, may be represented with deep significa- 
tion as the image of a living organic being ; for has not 
every one of its members the advantage, that all the others 
are forced to work for it ? and again, is it not also obliged to 
work for all the others ? so that every part is the end as well 
as the means, as one of the greatest philosophers of the last 
century so strikingly exemplifies, in the nature of organism. 
But this organic body owes its life to the spirit and the 
power of its limbs, and the preservation of this life in undi- 
minished health to the incessant addition of new, sound, and 
active members. Thus I view with pleasure the annual 
reception of new citizens into the University, as an annual 
regeneration or renovation of our upper school, which, 
though indeed long established, is yet in midiminished youth- 
ful vigour ; and it seems to me to be an excellent arrange- 
ment, that the annual restoration of our society should be 
united with the remembrance of its former great restoration, 
in which its religion was pmified, and its regulations were 
improved. 

This image of our University does not appear to me empty 
or barren, but partictdarly adapted to place before us all the 
holy bonds which ought to unite the members of this vene- 
rable institution. 

It affords me the greatest pleasure to imagine the different 
elevating feelings with which the older or younger men, who 
are now present, must each be inspired according to his posi- 
tion. The teacher may be reminded, on the present occasion, 
that he labours at an eternal edifice, and may rejoice in the 

* The academical citizen in foreign universities is subject to peculiar 
laws, and a police appertaining to the university itself, before which be 
is liable to be brought if he transgresses the laws. — Tr. 

f By the statutes of the University of Copenhagen, an address of some 
length is delivered on the day commemorating the establishment of the 
Reformed Religion, by one of the Professors, after which the Rector 
addresses himself more particularly, in a short speech, to the students. 



240 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

thought, that amidst the variety of young men who are to-day 
received into the bosom of our society, there will be some 
who are appointed to labour at the farther completion of this 
glorious edifice. He may reflect that a still greater number 
will be enabled to distribute science by word and by writing, 
and thence will lead their fellow-creatures still farther on the 
path towards wisdom and virtue. He who would not be un- 
w^orthy of his high vocation, will at least contribute something 
to introduce the maxims of wisdom into human life ; for the 
stability and the development of social life is connected by 
innumerable fine threads, invisible to the unassisted vision, 
with the learning which springs from the deepest researches, 
but frequently through so many ramifications that the 
enquirers alone can trace the commencement. How can the 
teacher believe that he shall be permitted to assist in conse- 
crating the blooming season of youth to such fair destinies, if 
he does not at the same time feel inspired with a delight 
which is closely connected with his zeal for the True and 
for the Beautiful ? and how can he implant a desire in the 
young to meet this consecration, if he does not himself feel 
drawn towards his pupils with feelings of kindliness, and if 
his greatest pleasure does not consist in being of use to them? 
This celebration must be still more memorable to those 
young men who first receive their academic rights. I will not 
speak of the becoming cheerfulness which every one of them 
may feel, when he beholds his industry rewarded by his 
reception into a new and higher rank of fellowship ; but I 
can well conceive the thoughts and feelings which may flow 
through those who are of an earnest disposition. He who is 
not satisfied with the mere surface of things must perceive that 
in the transition from the restraint of school to the freedom 
of the university, he makes a most important step in advance. 
It is important with respect to his position in life to ex- 
change the restriction of education, with that condition in 
which he is actually the master of his own actions ; but it is 
perhaps still more important with respect to his scientific 
life, to exchange the leading-strings of the school, with that 
freedom in the choice of his studies which is offered by the 
University, though not indeed without a judicious mode of 
transition. In the schools, young men have only to learn 
and to understand ; at the University, they must accustom 
themselves to assist in investigation ; and yet our regulations, 



OF THE SCHOOL IX LIFE. 241 

without imposing restraint, enjoin them to prepare them- 
selves first, by those studies which most encourage indepen- 
dent thought.* The young man is thus encouraged to extend 
his acquaintance with the dead languages, but more espe- 
cially to penetrate their spirit ; he will be induced to become 
more intimately acquainted with that science, without which 
Plato peiTuitted none to be admitted to his Academy. The 
entrance into the depths of philosophy is revealed to him: 
the eternal circulating motion of the Universe is laid open to 
his eyes ; the most simple, and hence the most comprehensive, 
laws of nature are unveiled before him. In truth, the young 
man who reflects with indifference that he is to participate 
in such glorious knowledge, should rather inscribe his name 
in an ordinary guild than attempt to become a citizen in the 
kins^dom of science ; for he will be just as indifferent to 
those branches of science towards which he afterwards turns, 
and which are to form the business of his life. 

Indifference towards science in him who ought to be its 
guardian, is generally the greatest proof of his being un- 
worthy to participate in it. He, on the other hand, who feels 
a real delight in the knowledge he gains, without regard 
to the advantage and the honours which it may procure him, 
is justified in beKeving that he has entered the sanctuary of 
science, and he will certainly, by continued efforts, penetrate 
to its sacred depths. 

I entreat, my young friends, that you will keep your bigh. 
vocation in view, and thus continue to nourish, the holy flame 
of enthusiasm. You must never forget that it is our spiritual 
natm-e which renders man the image of God, and that it is 
science which constantly develops this di^-ine spark within 
us, partly by showing us our own internal being as in a 
miiTor, partly by keeping before our eyes tlie impression of 
the Divinity, which is everywhere manifested around us in 
nature. Let the conyiction of our glorious spiritual nature be 
always present to you, not only in the study and in the lecture- 
room, but through the whole of life. All that you witness 

* The more advanced schools have latterly been so much improved, 
that they also embrace the Disciplines we here allude to, vdth the excep- 
tion of Philosophy ; yet many stil attend the more comprehensive lectures 
on Natural Science, which are afforded by the popular lecturers at the 
University, without reference to the particular branch which they are 
studying. 



242 OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 

in its events, in the society of your fellow-creatures, and in 
nature, you must refer to the eternal laws of Reason. By 
this means you will gain iu two different ways : on the one 
hand, you will pursue the most difficult researches without 
weariness, even with pleasure, and you will not esteem that 
to be insignificant which the feebler eye regards as such, 
because your vision, rendered clearer by science, will distin- 
guish the dawn of the light of Reason, by which it is illu- 
minated : on the other hand, your conviction that Reason 
is everywhere manifested, in great as much as in small things, 
will lead you to trace out the secrets of nature and of the 
soul, where, without the light of the soul, you would not have 
suspected them to exist; so that what appears to the un- 
initiated as dead matter, will to you be a living source of 
knowledge. 

With the belief that you are inspired by this true love of ' 
science, and that your spirit thirsts after wisdom, I wish 
you success in the new path of life now opening before 
you. 

In the first place, I must distinguish you who have gained 
the peculiar approbation of your examiners, and I must bestow 
on you the well-deserved public approbation. Rejoice in the 
distinction you have gained, by the honourable use of your 
talents ; but do not forget that it gives your fellow-citizens 
the right to expect much from you. You have proved your- 
selves to be distinguished youths ; your country expects you 
to become distinguished men. Always bear in mind the 
honour it would be to be numbered among her ornaments, 
and the disgrace it will be to deceive her expectations. Yet, 
above every external consideration, however promising it might 
appear, hold fast to the True, the Good, and the Beautiful, for 
themselves ; love them in spirit and in truth ; and then you 
wdll always be in the path to true happiness, of w^hich external 
lustre is but a feeble reflection. You, who have given proofs 
of distinguished knowledge, without having attained the right 
to public reward, will also, in the eyes of your teachers and 
fellow- students, participate in the honom- claimed by those 
of good abilities, and thus have to maintain an honour 
already gained, and to strive after a still higher one. 

And you also, who have not reached the same degree of 
perfection, or who have not been so happy in your power of 
giving forth your knowledge, do not be afraid of aiming at the 



OF THE SCHOOL IN LIFE. 243 

highest end; a strong will, like strong faith, may removo 
mountains. 

Even you, fewer in number, who may feel your powers too 
weak to attain the end in view, do not despair. He who is 
pure in his intentions, and who has an upright love of wisdom, 
ought never to undervalue himself, and will not be undervalued 
by others, nor will he be a useless member of society. 

And thus we, your future teachers, receive you with the 
best hopes and wishes. Attach yourselves to us, and we will 
not throw you off. Attach yourselves to your older fellow- 
students, that you may benefit by their matured knowledge 
and experience. They will meet you, just so far as you 
show yourselves worthy of their confidence, or they of yours. 
Attach yourselves to one another, not in the spirit of a guild 
or caste, but in a common love for science. Support and 
guide one another. And, finally, never forget that we all, 
teachers and scholars, should be united by one bond of 
spiritual relationship and love. 



K 2 



244 



ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 

FROM THE ALMANAC FOR 1835. 



Is the World degenerated? 

There are many people who imagine that the world is 
always degenerating. This is not a new complaint ; we 
meet with many passages in very ancient books that were 
written two or three thousand years ago, in which we per- 
ceive that the old people., even of that time, asserted that 
men were neither so strong, so wise, nor so upright, as in their 
younger days. We find that the same was asserted in all suc- 
ceeding times. Now, if the world continued incessantly to dete- 
riorate to such a degree that it was perceptible in the course 
of one generation, what an immense difference there must be 
between those men who lived twenty, thirty, or more cen- 
turies ago, and us who live now ! Must we not then be 
very miserable when compared with them ? If it were true, 
we should be obliged to submit to it — for it would be of little 
avail to fancy ourselves better than we are ; but if it is not 
true, we must equally beware of believing it. We often hear 
a thing extolled and placed before us as an example, and for 
our imitation, merely because it is old ; now, if we falsely 
imagined that every thing was formerly so much more excel- 
lent than at present, we should not have the courage to 
examine ancient times, as we confidently feel we have a 
right to examine modern times. 

The Temperature of the Atmosphere has not altered, 

I will first mention an unfavourable change, which in 
the opinion of many people has taken place in the external 
world, but which if it was really the case, would have a great 



ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 245 

influence upon man. Thus, many people imagine that in the 
course of time heat more and more diminishes on the earth, 
Avhile there are also some ^yho imagine that the earth is 
gradually becoming warmer ; but we shall soon perceive 
that neither party is right. Frequently, indeed, a succession 
of unusually cold, or unusually warm years, succeed one 
another ; but this does not last. The question is, whether, 
in very ancient times, it was constantly warmer or colder than 
in our days, or whether a perceptible change has generally 
taken place. • 

Every one knows that Greenland is a very cold country, 
full of icebergs, which never melt, and that on the side 
towards the sea it is almost surrounded by ice, which makes 
the voyage thither dangerous, even in summer. It has 
hitherto frequently been said, that this country was formerly 
much more mild and fruitful; that even in the time of 
Queen Margaret, more than four hundred years ago, it was so 
fertile that food could be exported from it into Denmark. AVe 
have now accm-ately searched whence this information pro- 
ceeded, and have found that it rests upon a misunderstand- 
ing : as in an old book, that was written in Norway five 
or six hundred years ago, and called " The Mirror of a King," 
we find the ice in Greenland so described, that we can per- 
ceive no difference between the condition of the country at 
that time, and the present. "We may take another example 
from the Bible. We there see, that in the country of the 
Jews, at the time of Christ, the vine was cultivated, as well 
as the sweet fruit called the date ; but dates do not ripen in 
any country which is of a lower temperatm-e than Judsea, 
and in no country which has a greater heat can we have a 
vineyard which will produce grapes in abundance, without 
peculiar care. We therefore see that the country of the 
Jews, at the time of Christ, must have been neither warmer 
nor colder than in our days. We need onl}" remember that 
we are in the year 1834, to see how long the temperature of 
Judsea has remained the same ; and yet we may go still 
farther back, and say that even in the time of Moses, which 
was 1500 years before Christ — therefore more than 3300 
years before our time — it was not warmer than it is now ; for 
those men who Moses sent out to explore the land, reported 
that it was rich in grapes, and brought with them examples 



246 A:j>rciE]srT and modehn times. 



I 



of an unusually large sort. If it had been at that time 
warmer, it could not have been, as we have already explained, 
a rich wine-country. 

Some believed they had discovered a proof that vineyards 
formerly existed in different countries where none are now 
met with, from this circumstance, that the training of the 
vine is mentioned among the privileges which the Pope granted 
to the monasteries of those places ; but this arises only because 
the secretaries of the Pope dispatched similar privileges to 
the monasteries of different countries, without considering 
that there were no vineyards in the north. 

The olive, from which sweet oil is obtained, grows in those coun- 
tries of Europe which enjoy the warmest climate, in Greece, 
Italy, and in a part of France, but it does not prosper in colder 
countries. It does not extend farther north than the chain 
of mountains in France which are called the Cevennes, but 
even eighteen hundred years ago it was not seen farther north. 
We learn this from an ancient Greek book, written by Strabo, 
a learned man who lived in the time of Christ. 

I might still cite many other examples of a similar kind, 
from ancient Amtings, to show that the earth has neither 
become warmer nor colder during the long period that man 
has kept a record of events which have come down to us ; 
but we have not space for more at present. 

Professor Schouw, who reports upon the weather of the 
past year, has collected and examined many such ancient 
records, and has laid before the Royal Scientific Society 
a treatise about it, from which I have borrowed these 
examples. 

Men vjere neither greater nor stronger in ancient times. 

It is related that, in former times, men were on a greater 
scale than they are now ; but this also rests upon imagination 
and false conclusions. Remains of ancient bones were found, 
which, as some believed, must have belonged to enormous 
giants ; but these bones have since been more accurately 
examined, and it has been discovered that they were not 
human bones, but that they belonged to large fourfooted 
beasts. On the other hand, there have been various oppor- 
tunities of examining the bodies and skeletons of people who 



ANCIENT AND MODEUX TIMES. 247 

died many hundred, indeed two thousand years ago, and it 
has thence been ascertained that those people, taken as a 
whole, were neither greater nor less than they are at present. 
In Egypt, a country so often mentioned in the Bible, 
people had the art of embalming their dead bodies in such 
a skilful manner, that they were able to preserve them 
to an indefinite period of time. These embalmed bodies, 
which are called mummies, were either kept by their con- 
temporaries as holy relics, or were placed in large and 
strong public buildings destined for that purpose, or in 
vaulted graves, which were hewn out in the rocks. For 
this reason, we find them in great numbers even now. By 
examining these mummies, we perceive that there is no dif- 
ference between the size of men two thousand years ago, 
and at the present time. The careless observer, who does 
not reflect that the body must shrink in drying, will even 
believe that they were smaller ; but w^hen w^e examine their 
bones, we see that the people who then dwelt in Egypt 
were neither on a greater nor smaller scale than they are 
now ; indeed, taken altogether they were rather smaller than 
we are in the north. 

In many other countries, skeletons and scattered bones are 
found, of which we can pronounce with certainty that they 
have belonged to men who died many hundred years ago ; 
and wherever such are found, an accurate examination of all 
the circumstances shows that the size of man has not altered. 
Moreover, we often hear that people, in old days, were stronger 
than they are now. But this is not proved. It is alleged, 
amongst other things, in support of this opinion, that ancient 
armour is often discovered, which is so heavy that in our times 
it would be difficult for a horseman to move in it. In the first 
place I must remark, that we learn from ancient writings that 
this armour was considered burdensome, even at that time, 
and that it made the cavalry so unwieldy, that they were 
imable to defend themselves against courageous, lightly-armed 
troops, if the latter succeeded in breaking thi'ough their ranks. 
In the second place, we must consider that it was only by 
practice that they learned to wear this armour ; people who 
exercise their powers on any one particular point, often gain 
great strength in it. We have also had an instance of this in 
the keeper of an armoury, who, when he was first appointed 
to the charge, was not remarkable for strength, but who 



248 , ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 

attained, by constant practice, such an ease in wearing and 
using this old armour, that he gave proofs of it, even in his 
eightieth year. Lastly, we must remember that the armour, 
which was carefully preserved, belonged far more frequently 
to the most robust warriors than to weak and feeble people. 
Old swords are also mentioned, of such a size that it 
would be difficult for men of our times to brandish them; 
but this ceases to be wonderful, when it is known that the 
warriors of those days, when powder and shot were still 
unknown, often carried swords which were wielded with both 
hands. Now that heavy helmets and armour are no longer 
worn, since they would be of little use in the manner that war 
is at present conducted, such heavy swords have been like- 
wise dispensed with. We also meet with ancient swords 
of enormous size, which were borne on certain solemn state 
occasions. Those who regarded these as warlike weapons, 
must indeed have had a great idea of the strength of our fore- 
fathers. But on the other hand, the swords which we so 
often find in the graves of ancient heroes, and generally most 
of the arms w^hich have descended to us from olden times, 
sufficiently prove that the strength of men in past ages was 
not greater than in our own days. 

The duratio7i of Life is not diminished. We now enjoy better 

Health, 

Another idea, as unfounded, though similar to that above 
mentioned, was, that people formerly lived to a greater age 
than they do now. I beg you will remark that I do not go 
back further than 3000 years, that I may not have occasion 
to quote anything from the investigations of learned men who 
refer to the accounts in the Holy Scriptures concerning the first 
ages of the world, which might perhaps render me unintelli- 
gible to some people. But as far as regards the last 3000 
years, it is not difficult to prove to every one, that during this 
period the usual duration of the life of man has remained 
the same. I can here quote the Bible again, as the most 
important testimony ; in fact, the 90th Psalm, over which is 
inscribed ^' A prayer of Moses, the man of God,'' in which 
it is expressly said that the age of man is seventy, and 
sometimes reaches eighty years ! Other very ancient scribes 
fix the age of man about the same period. In all these things 



AXCIEXT AXD MODEEX TIMES. 249 

we must admire the divine wisdom, winch has bestowed on 
nature such a perfect contrivance that it does not decay, like 
the work of man, but is preserved from century to century. 

I must here add another remarkable thing. If we compare 
a number of very old records, among others, old parish regis- 
ters, and notices of births and deaths from the time when 
they were first recorded, we find that in later times, out of an 
equal number of births, fewer die without becoming old than 
was formerly the case. The greatest age that man reaches, 
is not certainly increased ; but the number has risen of those 
who attain a great age. Nature has remained imchanged; 
but the regulation, and the mode of living among men, have 
produced alterations. 

I will cite the principal causes of these phenomena. 

1. Men have by degrees accustomed themselves to more 
cleanliness. If we retrogi*ade five or six centui'ies in time, 
we find, that even in cities the streets were unpaved, and that 
they were besides narrow and dark. 

The dirt was great both in the streets and within the 
houses ; on that account, all great towns were at that time 
constantly visited by pestilential diseases, which brought many 
thousands to the grave. Besides, the improvement in the 
ventilation and purification of towns advanced but slowly ; 
though exactly in proportion as this progressed, infectious 
diseases became fewer and less fatal. Such a sickness as the 
last great cholera, would, 500 years ago, have probably been 
as frightful as the Black Death, especially as the common 
people, even at that time, lived much worse than they do 
now. They were also clothed in a less cleanly manner. 
Many people knew little about linen, consequently the skin 
was in want of a great means of refreshment and of cleanli- 
ness, that cannot now be dispensed with. On that account 
diseases of the skin of all kinds were very general, and that 
terrible scoiu:ge, the leprosy, made great devastations. Im- 
provements proceeded slowly; and, even now, the streets, 
houses, clothes, or the body itself, are not kept as clean as is 
desirable ; but what has gradually taken place is nevertheless 
of importance, and has been productive of good. 

2. Men were formerly less moderate in eating and drinking 
than they are in olu* time. Many are certainly of a contrary 
opinion ; but such people only consider how much luxury, 
which is still permitted, ought to be abolished, and do not 



250 ANCIENT AND MODEKN TIMES. 

remember tlie long descriptions which have been handed down 
to us of what was formerly consumed at feasts. Men were, in 
past ages, particularly addicted to intemperance in drinking. 
At that time beer and mead were the principal intoxicating 
drinks, which contained more powerful ingredients than in 
our times. But to be intoxicated with these liquors, which 
are so innocent when taken in moderation, is far more inju- 
rious than with wine. The introduction of brandy, and the 
greater facility with which wine is obtained, has certainly 
contributed to remove the intemperance in beer and mead ; 
but, on the other hand, brandy has been more injurious from 
its frequent use, owing to its cheapness. Intemperance in 
drinking, on that account, during a certain period, rather 
increased ; but now we may indeed say, that in the last gene- 
ration it has greatly diminished. In this respect the higher 
classes, particularly in the last century, have set the lower 
orders a good example. Intemperance in drinking is now 
almost entirely abandoned among those in a higher class of 
society, and on that account a greater number reach a healthy 
old age than formerly ; but the amendment with regard to 
this is not so great, with many people, as we may hope that 
it will become. He who does not obey the religious precept 
concerning temperance, is indijfferent to his health. 

3. The science of medicine has made great progress, and 
we have a greater number of skilful physicians than formerly. 
Hence the folly of seeking to save one's life by superstitious 
means, more and more disappears, although it stiU exercises 
too much power. With the improvement in the science of 
medicine, many good regulations have, at the same time, 
arisen about health, by which infectious diseases are either 
kept at a distance, or are prevented from spreading further. 
Among these improvements the regulations for inoculation 
must be particularly mentioned, which were so strongly pro- 
moted by our paternal government, and which have saved the 
lives of so many children. 

ManMnd^ in a moral 'point of view^ has not recededy hut 
has advanced. 

We see that in what concerns material things, the state 
of man is not worse, but better, than it was in former ages. 
The question now only remains, whether the case is not 



ANCIENT AND MODEHN TIMES. 251 

different with spiritual things ? I know that many speak of 
the ancient times of the world as if they were replete with 
virtue, and as if the men of the present day had shamefully 
degenerated from their fathers. This commendation of past 
times has even less foundation than what is said about the size 
of the body, its strength, and its health ; but I should act un- 
advisedly, were I not previously to explain why our ancestors 
must have been inferior to us in many good qualities. They 
were, namely, less enlightened, which was natural; for, as 
every ordinary man grows wiser with age, it is the same with 
the whole human race. Every year we experience something 
new, and we invent something new ; the son learns from the 
father, and the young generally from the old. In this way 
an increasing treasure of knowledge is constantly collected 
in the world, which cannot be lost, unless men so entirely 
surrender themselves to folly and vice^ that they do not even 
endeavour to learn anything good and useful. It is easy 
to conceive that men, in all well-regulated states, must im- 
prove, and be better instructed, and that their understanding 
is more disposed to choose the good and to reject the evil. 
It is worthy of remark^ how often men allow themselves 
to be deceived by a name. We frequently call the past 
ages, " the olden times," and our ancestors " the ancients," 
and we fancy that we thus pay particular respect to their age 
and their wisdom. But what are called the " ancient days" 
were exactly the " young days" of the human race; man- 
kind is now older and more experienced than it was in past 
ages ; but we should not pride ourselves on that, for our 
descendants will be still better, and more experienced than 
we are. Let us only endeavour to leave behind us the re^ 
membrance that we have not disgraced the time in which 
we Hved. 

Valour was the virtue most usually met with among our 
ancestors. Exactly because men were less enlightened they 
were more easily roused into a dispute, and tempted by rapacity; 
and since countries at that time rarely enjoyed good govern- 
ments and wise regulations, people lived in continual warfare. 
Each petty lord could wage war against his neighbour, and 
several petty lords, when united, were able to join against 
their sovereign. They therefore recognised no other virtue but 
valour, which they constantly strived after. In our days the 
passions of men are more curbed by reason, and, above all. 



252 ANCIEXT AND MODEEN TIMES. 

internal peace is better protected by laws and good regula- 
tions. We are also more cautious than formerly about com- 
mencing a war, by which the lives and welfare of so many 
men are at stake. Yet, notwithstanding this, when war has 
been waged in modern times, we have seen great actions 
performed, which might fairly take their place beside those of 
former days. 

The praise which is bestowed upon the honour of ancient 
days, has far less foundation than that bestowed upon their 
valour. If we do not limit ourselves to reading certain modem 
books, which^ blindly praise the past ages, but if we rather 
read older writings, which are composed by men who have 
seen the events with their own eyes, or heard them related 
by men who have themselves experienced them, we learn that 
promises were often broken, that even perjury was not un- 
common, and that near relations frequently deceived one 
another. We also find, in the old writings, that they treated 
one another with what we should now think a very exagge- 
rated distrust. The petty kings, who swarmed in the North, 
before each country was subject to its own king, covertly 
attacked each other, although they did not come to open war. 
When heroes feasted one another, they were at the same 
moment ready for each other's destruction. It is true they 
were heathens, but in Christian times the great lords in these 
kingdoms continued, for many centuries, to act almost as 
badly; and certainly in none of the succeeding centuries was 
artifice so much detested as it is in our days. 

Men of the present day should not fear a comparison with, 
those of past ages, with respect to their probity and their love 
of truth; but they might well fear of blushing before posterity, 
if they do not earnestly strive to excel their ancestors far more 
than they have hitherto done. It might be supposed, that Chris- 
tianity itself would imbue the most ignorant among its followers 
with a horror of all vices, and it will not fail to do so, when 
man devotes himself to it with his whole heart. But we 
should not forget that the imperfection of human nature 
makes it in various ways difficult for us to receive the simple 
comprehension of the great truths of Christianity, as clearly 
and purely as is intended. The enlightenment of the under- 
standing is the real way to expel the animal part of our 
nature, which allows the wild desires and appetites to govern, 
and which is also frequently led astray by false ideas. If we 



ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 253 

consider the path of Divine Proyidence in the distribution of 
Christianity, we see with admiration how everything is so 
arranged as to oblige man to acquire knowledge, to use his 
powers of reflection, and to advance in enlightenment. I 
do not however deny that men, in their endeavours towards 
enlightenment, have frequently fallen into great and detri- 
mental errors ; but if many honest men strive after truth, 
they will be gradually corrected. 

We may here be contented to see how much good has 
already been derived from the enlightenment of the under- 
standing. 

Superstition is one of the most pernicious errors which 
prevailed in less enlightened times, and which has not yet 
entirely lost its power. In the dark ages, an extraordinary 
confidence was placed in astrologers, who foretold by the stars 
portentous events and the destinies of man. It was but 
slowly perceived that these prophecies consisted in mere 
imagination or deception, for only two hundred years ago most 
people still believed in them. Equal faith was placed in 
the power of magic. There were many, at that time, who 
willingly allowed the people to believe that they understood 
the diabolical art ; indeed, some few put faith in it themselves ; 
namely, they had learnt from wicked men some secret means 
of injuring others, and did not themselves understand the 
matter, therefore they easily believed that it proceeded from 
the devil. Some also learned a peculiar way of preparing 
stupefying drinks, which caused a kind of intoxication, and 
afterwards a sleep, in which people had singular visions, 
and fancied that they had been in distant countries, although 
their bodies had remained in the same spot. It is now well 
known to us how all this can be done, but its practice would 
at the present day be as much ridiculed as it would be shunned 
by all reasonable people. Must we not shrink from the idea, 
that not only in the dark ages of Catholicism, but even whole 
centuries after Luther had restored a purer form of Chris- 
tianity, people yielded to such foolish notions ; and above 
all, that so many both in the upper and lower classes could 
seek advice and assistance from men whose wisdom and 
power proceeded, as they believed, from the devil? The 
enlightenment of the understanding has here paved the way 
for Christianity; for as soon as we perceive that evil is 
folly, it is held in the greatest contempt. Future enlighten- 



254 ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 

ment will gradually bring more and more people to the 
clear knowledge that all that is wicked is also foolish ; and 
he who constantly keeps this truth in view, which is taught 
both by religion and by reason, cannot but feel himself 
through it strengthened in virtue. 

Enlightenment contributes powerfully to extinguish revenge, 
cruelty, and pride, among mankind. Christianity condemns 
these vices in the strongest manner, and exhorts us with all 
its power towards love. We must be mentally blind, if in 
reading the events of the world, we do not see the great 
effect it has thus exercised on the numerous nations who 
have been received into the Christian church. But an atten- 
tive perusal of these events proves to us, again, that enlighten- 
ment has accompanied Christianity. The more Christians 
became enlightened, so much the more they were obliged to 
fulfil the commandment of love and humility. The two com- 
mandments are more intimately connected than at first sight 
would appear; for he who thinks a great deal of himself, and 
but slightly of others, is strongly tempted to forget love; 
indeed, to undervalue others so disproportionately, is of itself a 
proof of a want of love. I need not say much of the contempt 
with which those formerly in power treated the common people, 
and especially their own subjects; the case is sufficiently well 
known. A great many bad usages are connected with it ; the 
pride of the master usually demanded the greatest humility 
from those beneath him. It is delightful to see what a great 
change has been introduced by the increase of enlighten- 
ment. As the upper classes became more enlightened, they 
found less delight in seeing their fellow-creatures humble 
themselves before them in the dust ; and as the lower classes 
became more enlightened, their superiors found that they 
could both demand as well as deserve better treatment. 

Thus it has come to pass in nearly all Christian countries, 
and our beloved Denmark has not been behind the rest. It 
must be weU known to every Dane, how the oppression and con- 
tempt in which the peasants formerly lived, disappeared to- 
wards the end of the last century, and the share which Frederic 
VI. took in its extinction, who, long before he ascended the 
throne, had already done so much for his people. It also 
deserves to be remembered, that those who laboured in the 
cause by word and deed, were no peasants, and therefore were 
not those who had suffered the wrong, but that they were 



ANCIENT AND MODEHN TIMES. 255 

men impelled by integrity, and love to their fellow- creatures. 
The most distinguished among these were the noble bene- 
factors of the peasantry, the great statesman, Count Andreas 
Peter Bernsdorff, Count Christian Reventlow, so well versed 
in the internal constitution of his country, and the eloquent 
and learaed law}'er, the general procm-ator, Christian Col- 
bjornsen, who with the most unselfish zeal promoted this 
gi*eat endeavour, more honourable than the most successful 
war. Shortly afterwards, with the same philanthropy, we 
provided for the interests of our black brethren, who in another 
quarter of the world, had been previously sold like cattle, to 
be used as beasts of burden. Christianity and humanity 
have for nearly three centuries demanded the abolition of 
this shameful trade in men ; but many persevered in it, from 
motives of self-interest, until the nimierous and zealous 
friends of humanity who fought the cause of the unfortunate 
negro, succeeded in their efforts in enlightening them. The 
Danish king set the example of the abolition of the slave 
trade, and he who most zealously supported him in this 
endeavoui' was Count Ernest Schimmelmann, who possessed 
large West Indian estates, which up to that time had been 
cultivated by slaves. 

I only recall this to the remembrance of my countrymen 
in order that they may see in some of these well-known ex- 
amples, how powerfully enlightenment has contributed to pro- 
mote the Christian precept of love ; for we vainly seek during 
the dark ages for such a wise and philanthropic action. We 
have not space here to enlarge upon the examples from other 
countries. I will only add, that the number of those who 
are labom-ing to diminish oppression, to alleviate the destiny 
of the poor, and even to reconduct the criminal into the right 
path, appears constantly to increase. The zeal with which 
so many have contributed to spread the knowledge of the 
Bible, is sufficiently well known. 

Before I conclude, I must guard against a misinterpretation 
of what I have here said. I should be greatly misunderstood 
if it were supposed to be my opinion, that much good did not 
happen in past ages, and that many pious and noble men had 
not then lived. That would be at variance with clear truth. 
I should as little believe that great improvements are not 
wanted in our days. My intention was only to show that 
the world, taken altogether, is advancing towards a better 



256 ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 

condition, and to point out the way by which man has ap- 
proached a more desirable state, in order that we may pursiie 
our path so much the more courageously in future, and that 
every one may promote in his own circle the distribution of 
useful knowledge, as much by the instruction of the young as 
by the enlightenment of the old. 



NATURAL SCIENCE 

IX ITS RELATION TO DIFFERENT PERIODS OP 

TPIE WORLD, AND TO THE PHILOSOPHY 

PREVALENT IN THEM. 



A Critical Notice of Steffens\ Polemical Journal for the 
furtherance of Speculative Physics, First Part. Breslau^ 
'l829. — From the '' Monatsschrift fur Literature' Vol, //Z, 
1830. 

The best dispute, though one most rarely met with, is 
that which leads to reconciliation ; and these polemical 
papers will certainly contribute much towards this end, if the 
author,'" as we may venture to hope, will continue them in the 
spirit in which they have been commenced. They are intended 
to contain copious criticisms on the physical, chemical, and 
physiological theories of the day, as they appear from a spe- 
culative point of view : but the author will not speak the 
language of any one philosophical school. " Real living 
speculation," he says in the preface, '' is not bound to the 
phraseology of a school. Each important part of the science 
of natm-e, while it developed itself historically, formed for 
itself a peculiar language. Criticism should cling to this, and 
verify her higher position through the prevailing modes of 
representation, rather than by speculative formulas. It is of 
course understood, that we would not meanwhile sacrifice 
speculative seriousness, to a shallow intelligibility." 

As much dispute has ensued in the learned w^orld from 
the want of a proper mutual understanding, and as this seems 
to be peculiarly the case in the dispute between speculative 
science and those natural sciences which follow the path 
of experience, the author's principle to employ the adopted 
language of each science, will contribute much to unite all 
minds. The first part is chiefly occupied in pointing out the 

* Heinrich Steffens, late Professor of Philosophy and Scandinavian 
Literature at the University of Berlin. — TV. 

S 



2-58 DELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

?pirit in whlcli Natural Science has developed itself dnriuc^ 
the last few centuries. We see in this representation the 
man of enlarged mind, whose view is not limited to one 
single science, but who rather surveys the relation of all science 
to the development of the human race. Should he even, 
in his bold attempts to discover the internal unity of things, 
occasionally fall into error — from which indeed, he is secure, 
who does not venture upon any bold attempt at all — we still 
cannot be surprised that there are many who would rather 
dare with him, even if they were to fall with him, than share 
the security of the latter. We will endeavour to follow the 
author, though not incautiously ; but whether we always 
preserve the right medium between too little, or too much, 
this must be decided by others. Every one who knows our 
journal, must be already aware that the author's conviction 
of the great mental value, and the deeply influential character 
of Natural Science, as we have now to pourtray it, is by no 
means foreign to ourselves. The principal idea in Steffens' 
pamphlet is given for the most part very briefly, in some 
passages which are intended either to be still further 
explained, or to communicate the result of preceding re- 
searches. We therefore can generally allow the author to 
speak for himself, and so much the rather, as we may feel 
convinced that our readers will listen to him with pleasure. 

'^The view of nature generally prevailing at any deter- 
mined time," says the author, (p. 3,) "as it appears in 
different nations, marked with their peculiar stamp, is the 
foundation of their whole science, the medium of all their 
knowledge, while its influence spreads over every department 
of life. It has an important influence on all social order, on 
morals, nay, even on religion. It is the peculiar mode of 
^^[ewing nature, which especially imparts a marked pecu- 
liarity to certain periods, by which they are distinctly sepa- 
rated from the earlier and later periods, and stand forth as 
peculiar and distinguished historical phenomena. We may 
venture to assert, that although the influence of prevailing 
views of nature cannot have remained hidden from historians 
(so that the more faithfully the picture of a period is delineated, 
so much the more distinctly does this influence appear), yet 
they have not yet recognised the whole depth, and the immea- 
surable force of this tendency of the human mind." 

Pages 3 and 4. " Even the doctrines of the schools are 



TO DIFFERENT PEKIODS OF THE WORLD. 259 

more important than we are generally inclined to adnut. 
Principles which have been there long contested as mere 
conjecture, which are grounded on investigations that in 
their widest extent never overstep the limits of the schools, 
and which have slowly grown up, not unfrequently become 
the prevailing view, and exercise a power over the minds of 
all, which the less it is acknowledged is so much the more 
forcible. What still continues to be doubtful in the schools, 
or at the most seems but a probable hypothesis, becomes an 
important guide to the mode of thinking among the people ; 
and not unfrequently, views which have been formed by 
earlier schools, have been most powerful when they were 
here overset. In this manner historical movements have 
originated ; violent struggles, now of one school in its growth, 
against that which is past ; now of the new one, already 
become powerful, with the prevailing views of the people. 
The latter have resisted a change to vrhich they are destined 
in the future to submit, in order perhaps, that centuries after- 
wards they might begin a similar struggle with the same 
violence, and with the same results/' 

The physical philosophy prevailing at the present time, con- 
sidered as a peculiar tendency in the human mind, is modern, 
and really commenced in the 17th century, after, however, it 
had undergone a long system of preparation. " The traces of 
that period, now supplanted, have not even yet disappeared ; 
they dwell in the views of the people : banished from science, 
they exist modified, though not essentially altered, in poetry — 
indeed few, not even those who are thoroughly penetrated by 
the prevalent doctrine which has a direct influence on the 
development of their minds, can entirely ward off the in- 
fluence of a mode of thought to which they are directly 
opposed.'' And yet it is difficult to transport ourselves 
wholly into the mode of thought of those times, on which 
account the author thinks his representation of the case 
must be very deficient. His readers will certainly find it 
both interesting and eloquent. 

P. 5. "The earth reposed in the centre of the universe, 
round which the heavens were arched. The moon, the sun, 
the planets on their wandering and apparently intricate 
paths, had each their peculiar heaven, their peculiar arch, in 
which they moved, and the action of this arch was concen- 
trated at that point where the heavenly bodies appeared, 

s2 



260 RELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

and tberefore they came foj'ward with still greater power, • 
when they were united (in conjunction), either opposing or 
supporting each other. The firmament, with countless stars, 
stretched like a vast arch over the heavens of the planets, 
surrounded by the transparent crystal heaven, and by the 
light-giving fiery empyrean, and beyond, in mystic distance, lay 
the primuin mobile. But the earth w^as in the middle : all 
the planets stood related to her, as to their common centre. 
The universal creation, with all its hidden powers, had become 
more closely united to the human race ; their home was the 
whole system of the universe. The infinitude of existence 
was not directly revealed to them, but it was only as a pheno- 
menon fettered and bound to the central point, and shining 
forth from that point, that it received in limited form its 
original importance." 

P. 6. "As the earth was the centre of the universe, so 
that all sympathetic forces and materials here united to pro- 
duce, to preserve, and to mould the completeness of existence; 
so man was the centre of the eartlj, the microcosm ; and the 
planets acted with friendly or hostile infiuence at his birth, 
as they had co-operated at the birth of the first created 
being. 

'^The Father had disclosed all the riches of his creation to 
the earth, had entrusted it with the mystery of his intentions, 
— even the announcement of salvation through the Son was 
manifested in an earthly form ; and as the \\'hole power of 
the Father was thought to concentrate itself on the visible 
earth, so all salvation, through redemption, was to be united 
in one visible church, with one bodily head ; finally, as the 
whole power of the Father was repeated in a limited form of 
creation in each individual man, so the incarnation of the 
Saviour was repeated for every partaker of the Holy 
Supper. 

''And as nature lived and was preserved under the in- 
fluence of foreign planets, so all that was mighty in history 
was borrowed from foreign nations. The ibreign wisdom of 
a nation which had perished, and which could scarcely be 
recognised through the glow of eastern metaphor, composed 
in a strangely distorted form their whole science ; a foreign 
imperfect language even limited their thought ; foreign insti- 
tutions regulated their towns, foreign rights their social 
relations, even religion itself was transmitted to them from 



TO DIFFERENT TEIIIOBS OF THE WORLD. 261 

a foreign eastern nation ; tlie prirniim mobile, the original 
producing power in history, as well as in nature, was removed 
entirely out of their own hands." 

P. 7. "And yet this only concerned their view of the 
subject. They were penetrated by the spiritual principle, 
although unconsciously, for they felt themselves placed in a 
centre, surrounded, not by a finite, but by an infinite circum- 
ference. Hiort''' makes the correct remark, that the concep- 
tion of organism \vas wholly unknown to the writers of the 
Middle Ages, and that the idea fciiled them, because they felt 
themselves absorbed in one vast organism. The idea of a 
imiversal life, in w^hich all was swallowed up, was the uncon- 
scious support of their views, and therefore could never, as 
such, become the object of their consideration. It was from 
this tendency of the spirit, which seems so one-sided to ns, 
that it was enabled to produce such great and mighty things 
—to produce, that is, a noble era, a joyous, significant poesy, a 
beautiful and characteristic art ; in short, an admirable cha- 
racter of its own, w^hich we ventured to notice in a former 
WTiting. It was a notice which may seem to be guided by 
party feeling, to those who can never raise themselves above 
the individual historical facts, and who are not capable of 
bringing out in purity the inward producing spirit of an 
extraordinary period, from the confusion of circumstances, 
and to make it the subject of distinct consideration. 

" But this was a necessary result of the peculiar spirit of the 
age, that the thinker felt himself bound by nature, with which 
he was both internally and externally united. He could not 
separate himself from it to make himself the object of his 
own exact inquiry ; each observation ended with something 
inconceivable and transcendental ; every reflection floated 
into a kind of prophetic feeling, and all precision and dis- 
tinctness vanished, even where it endeavoured to form itself." 

After the author has spoken of the four elements and 
their qualitates primarice and secundarice, he introduces the 
adoption of a horror vacui, as a first attempt to explain those 
phenomena which were followed up by experiment ; a theory, 
indeed, which was borrowed from the Aristotle of the Middle 
Ages, but of which we find nothing in the older physicists. 

P. 9. " Because the idea of the organism was the instinc- 
tive principle of all their perceptions, and on that account 

* In his work on the Exigena of Johannes Scotus, otherwise known as 
Duns Scotus. 



262 BELATION OF KATURAL SCIENCE 

could not be the object of reflection ; the other principle 
that similar things seek themselves, did not appear as a mere 
dead attraction, but as sympathy and antipathy. For those 
above-mentioned qualities were the external forms of things; 
the deeper foundation, on the other hand, whence this attrac- 
tion originated, sprang from the internal, actual, living forms." 

This formed one of the most essential features in the 
character of those times. It was not believed that what thus 
sought or shunned each other were different in the living and 
the dead. " When the conjunction of the stars at the birth 
of a man seemed particularly favourable ; when amber after 
friction attracted light bodies, and the magnet attracted iron ; 
when minerals were found to move in dissolving liquids ; 
when men by look, by word, or especially by secret influence, 
worked on one another, these effects sprang from the same 
principle. Even antipathy, the destructive agent, arose from 
the tendency of similar things to unite together. But they 
especially recognised one great separation, one original con- 
tradiction in existence ; it formed the basis of their collected 
knowledge, and was of an entirely religious nature. It was 
the prevailing view of God and the Devil. The former was 
the principle of the invariable, the all- supporting, the holy ; 
the latter was the principle of destruction and hostility." 

P. 11. *' This, however, was the important peculiarity of 
that period, — that as the earth was viewed as the centre of 
the universe, the primum mohile, embracing all matter, and 
God was regarded as uniformly penetrating all things; so also 
man did not behold the eternal in the spiritual, and raised 
above all earthly consciousness, but as bound to the micro- 
cosm of earthly personality, so that this never ceased to be 
the centre of all existence. 

" Hence even their religion was an elevated and infinitely 
extended sensationalism ; their highest feeling could not 
extricate itself from a form of consciousness which was bound 
to corporeal existence, and thus their whole physical philo- 
sophy was magic." 

P. 12. '^ What were then considered as the highest scien- 
tific efforts of the magician, tended to separate the Divine 
Element, wherever it was found to be sullied by opposing 
elements in visible nature ; in order that the divine and sus- 
taining principle, which lay concealed in every inner form, 
might freely act. This is alchemy, no chance and arbitrarily 
imagined thought, but rather a thoroughly necessary and 



TO DIPFEREXT TEEIODS OF THE AVORLD. 263 

absolutely essential element of the prevaiiiup: physics. All 
physicists searched for the philosopher's stone, — nay, were 
compelled to seek for it, for at that time there existed no 
other physics, and none other could arise. The production of 
this most noble centre of all existence, was as much a reli- 
gious act as a physical experiment ; and this general pre- 
vailing endeavour offers the most striking proof of the manner 
in which the spirit was bound to the earthly. This purified 
matter, in which lay concentrated the original force of 
creation, when applied to the macrocosm could not fail to 
produce the most noble materials, such as jewels: above every- 
thing, gold ; but on the same principle, applied to the micro- 
cosm (because the original preserving principle is the same 
in both) it was likewise conducive to health and to the pro- 
longation of life." 

Pp. 12 and 13. " Superstition never arose of itself; it can 
never, in accordance with its first origin, be considered as 
absolutely arbitrary. The universal reference of everything 
to a state of consciousness fettered by sensationalism (although 
the latter was nevertheless penetrated by the entire fulness 
of the All) generated that one-sided, but in itself powerful 
and remarkable tendency, from which superstition originated, 
and was compelled to originate. Man lives in a constant 
internal dissension between thought and inclination, which 
he is never entirely able to overcome. But this inward 
struggle had at that time a deeper signification. The fulness 
cf existence, the whole power of nature, stood opposed to 
the combatant, and it was necessary he should decide. That 
region of pure contemplation in which we feel om'selves, if 
not purified, yet still at rest, so long as we remove all pheno- 
mena to a distance, and entirely resign ourselves to thought^ 
could then only be approached from afar, or the whole force 
of an imdivided life was compelled to be sacrificed to the 
effort. Thus the inward struggle was heightened, and there 
was scarcely ever a more decisive one. He who yielded 
iiimself to the contemplation of the Divine, without quitting 
the position to which he was fettered by the times, who sought 
that purifying process thi'ough Divine assistance, that know- 
ledge of the signatm'e of things which revealed their connec- 
tion with the stars and with the universal ruling powers ; he 
was at once the wise and the holy man ; his superstition, as 
we caU it, was the faith of his time ; he was, in the manner 
of that period, scientifically educated. But just because this 



264 BELATION OF NATURAL SCIE^X'E 

struggle laid claim to the whole of existence, to the sentiments 
as much as to the thoughts, it was rarely completely decided. 
That which we now enstamp and pardon as the vanity of 
philosophers ; that which joined to great talent is often con- 
sidered as a useful motive to evoke what is most important 
and significant, all this, at that time, took a much more 
dangerous character. The antithesis was thus formed be- 
tween w^hite and black magic ; between that which originated 
in the preserving principle, and which in the usual accepta- 
tion of the term might be called orthodox, and that which 
originated in the destructive principle, which even in the 
sense of that period may be called superstitious, for all that 
it was able to produce was only illusion, although this ex- 
tended farther, and was more powerful than we are inclined 
to admit." 

We have been unwilling to hinder our readers from pur- 
suing the train of the author's thoughts, and have therefore 
repressed every remark till we had reached this resting-point, 
that the reader might behold the animated and powerful pic- 
ture which the author has drawn with his own eyes, not 
through foreign glasses. It lies in the very nature of such a 
delineation that some features should be often more sharply 
exhibited than they are presented by nature ; but whether 
perhaps there are not certain features which have been com- 
prehended with a preference which excludes others no less 
important, or whether certain features have been rendered 
too prominent in their relation to others, we will now leave 
to the judgment of the reader, and more especially to that 
of the author himself. 

The whole description which has been given of the Middle 
Ages seems to produce an impression as if it owed its origin 
Avholly and entirely to the views of nature then prevalent, and 
yet assuredly this is not the opinion of the author. The Middle 
Ages, with some particular exceptions, had almost the same 
views of nature as were held by Asiatic nations before Christi- 
anity, and yet the spirit of the Middle Ages was in many 
respects very different from that of Asia. That which gave 
the Middle Ages its character, by which it was distinguished 
from more ancient times, was doubtless the result of the 
remarkable intercourse which then existed between unci- 
vilized races and other nations, whose intellectual develop- 
ment had reached an excess of refinement and become obso- 
lete, and who were compelled to bend before the brute force 



TO DIFFERENT TERIODS OF THE WORLD. 265 

of human nature ; but on the other hand, they not merely 
imparted to them the small portion of science which the 
others ^yere capable of receiving, not merely exercised an 
immense influence on their language, laws, and government, 
but also communicated to them a new religion, and a religion 
truly which, with iiTcsistible though slowly-acting power, was 
to exercise an enduring influence over them, and which at 
the same time caused foreign languages and the wisdom of 
the East to become a constant object of their endeavours. 
Other nations, with the same views of nature, had developed 
themselves to the greatest freedom ; the obstacle which fet- 
tered the spii'it of the Middle Ages was, that men were then 
compelled to walk in the leading-sti'ings of foreign nations. 
If we were describing the ]Middie Ages, and only gave 
secondary importance to the views of nature, we should, in 
the first place, mention what the author himself (pp. 6 and 7) 
has said in such a striking manner, and so aptly, of foreign 
influence on the Middle Ages. That which was peculiar in 
their views of nature, and different from still older periods, 
was especially to be ascribed to this foreign influence. Even 
the Romish church could not have reached that powerful 
hierarchical form to which it afterwards grew, had not an 
ignorant population required such dominion, and gladly 
submitted to it. 

Do not let us be misunderstood, as if we believed that the 
author would himself overlook this, or that he had said any- 
thing from which this might be directly inferred ; but we do 
not very clearly see how far his idea of the case deviated from 
our own, and we hope that he will explain himself more clearly 
in the continuation of his work. That we may not prolong a 
possible misunderstanding, it may, perhaps, be useful to say, 
that we by no means understand by what we have just said, 
that the spirit of the Middle Ages had been composed from 
those co-operating elements. The spirit of each peculiar 
period is the spirit of man himself, more immediately deter- 
mined by the development which it must receive from all 
preceding and contemporaneous impressions, as well from 
those which come from without, as from the reciprocal action 
of the various elements of intellectual development them- 
selves ; thus, for instance, the views of nature influence both 
religion and government, as these react on them. We do 
not, however, present these as chance coincidences, however 



2Q6 HELATION OF NATUKAL SCIENCE 

much they may have the appearance of chance in our eyes ; 
but as produced according to the eternal laws of the world, 
to which both the seasonable development of the human 
mind, and that of material nature, are subordinate. That 
these law^s do not differ from the Divine Will, we consider as 
clearly proved. But as we always express ourselves most 
distinctly, w^hen what w^e have to explain, points to that which 
is most nearly connected wdth it, and not to its original 
source, so we have also here commenced with the most nearly 
related subject. 

That which the author says of what is excellent in the 
Middle Ages, p. 160, &c., is indeed most admkably ap- 
plied, and he can hardly speak more upon the subject ; but 
it must be expressly told to the many blind worshippers of 
the Middle Ages, who particularly cling to the reputation 
Vi^hich is attributed to that period, and w-ho scarcely feel, with 
sufhcient force, the actual depth of the shadowy side of the 
picture w^hich he draws, that w^hat was excellent in those 
days was but thinly sown. The barbarism and vice in the 
history of that period, appears to preponderate in a frightful 
degree. Let us only venture on a comparison ; the limit we 
iix upon may certainly be arbitrary, but we shall not be very 
wrong, if we choose the era of the discovery of printing, 
which is so remarkable from its causes, from its effects, and 
from the events w-hich occur simultaneously with it. Let us 
now collect all which can throw glory on the Middle Ages, 
and unless w^e entirely close om* eyes to later times, ^\e shall 
be compelled to admit that they w ere far behind us in all 
which ennobles mankind, while, on the other hand, they as 
far surpassed us in examples of horror and vice ; though indeed 
it is with sorrow that the friend of humanity beholds a fearful 
number of instances of vice, even in later times. 

The author discovers a remarkable peculiarity in the 
Middle Ages, in the fact that reflection by the understanding 
was entirely excluded. He will not allow the subtilty of the 
scholastics to serve as an argument against this, but says, 
p. 25, "If reflection by the understanding now pre-sup- 
poses an original separation of being and thought, and in such 
a manner that the thought appears originally empty, a mere 
fiiculty for the reception of the impressions of sensation, 
notions, therefore, become only the mere abstractions of 
concrete perceptions, and through these receive their reality 



TO DIFFEEENT PERIODS OF THE WOULD. 267 

as they themselves did from tlieir own original impressions ; 
yet, in those earlier days there ^Yas no question of such a 
separation ; notions were indeed abstracted from things, but 
tlie unity of both, if not recognised . with distinct conscious- 
ness, was yet admitted. The notions formed themselves 
within the soul, as in a peculiar world, and yet this world 
contained all its external forms and relations ; it appeared, 
therefore, as the primam mobile, which embraced and ruled 
nature, though separated from her as the eleventh heaven — 
and struggled for an internal, as here for an external, Infinity. 
On this account we perceive at that time a wonderful richness 
of the inner world of thought, down whose precipice we 
scai'cely venture to look, while the external world was less 
regarded, and was only able to excite attention where it 
directly set in motion the- most imva?'d world." 

With regard to the first circumstance, that reflection was a 
stranger to that period, the author appears to us not to have 
been fortunate in his manner of expressing what he would 
say ; for the whole dispute between the Nominalists and the 
Realists, which so much agitated the philosophy of the Middle 
Ages, and which gave occasion to so many ideas lying between 
the two extremes, rested on the question of the reality of 
notions. As there is no doubt with regard to the chief object 
of this dispute, we may borrow for our purpose the following 
short exposition of it, taken from the first and best work on 
the History of Philosophy. 

The fundamental principle of Nominalism is, according to 
Buhle,*' as follows : — " Keality only exists in individual exter- 
nal things. Universals are merely notions of the understand- 
ing without reality, which are only designated objectively 
through language, and thence receive an appearance of 
reality, although they themselves neither contain a reality, 
nor do they correspond to a reality. The principle of Realism, 
on the contrary, is this : There is no reality in individual 
external things. Universals are the true reality, and indivi- 
duals as such, are only distinguished by accidents." 

We must, therefore, pause at another expression of the 
author: — " The undesirable impress which that period evinced 
of a limited consciousness," an expression which may indeed 
be defended in one particular signification , but which, as we 
believe, he ought to explain more exactly and historically, if 
• J. G. Buhle, Professor at Gottingen. 



268 BELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

in the succeeding numbers he would make a more extensive 
use of the views he has offered on the relation between the 
Middle Ages and Modern Times. 

With reference to the form which in that age the inner 
world was compelled to assume, we indeed partly agree with 
the author, but yet find something in wdiich we are compelled 
to differ from him. We vfill, therefore, offer our opinion for 
comparison; but to promote that mutual understanding 
which must be the principal object in every controversy where 
both parties trust to the honest love of truth in each other, 
we will express the thoughts which we borrow from the 
author, in our own words. 

It is a matter of course, that spirits such as guide and form 
a period, possess in themselves a creative activity which they : 
neither can nor will suppress ; it becomes a necessity to them ; 
to form an idea of the world as a whole. The poorer they 
are in their knowledge of external existence, so much the 
more must they limit themselves to their own mental creative 
power. This does not leave them entirely at a loss, for it has 
drawn its essence from the same source as . all the rest of 
existence, and will therefore frequently conduct them to the 
eternal laws by which internal as well as external nature is 
governed. But it is a necessary consequence of the limitation 
of human powers that this occurs very imperfectly. Truth is 
only now and then exhibited in its purity. Far more fre- 
quently the endeavour takes a false direction, and loses itself 
amidst countless errors. Mankind slowly advances through 
history and science, yet with a firm step, in spite of the errors 
to which it is subject on the path. It is only by the contem- 
plation of real existence, that man receives such a clear view 
of the Divine power exerted in the vastness of creation, and ^ 
of the inexpressible depth and harmony of reason in the laws 
of the world, as he is able to grasp with his faculties. But 
before the human race reaches this point, where the spiritual : 
that is hidden is clearly comprehended in the material, it 
requires other aid. It is a well-founded compensation in the ' 
rational arrangement of the universe, that man discovers a 
treasure in himself, before he can discos er that other, which 
lies external to him in widely scattered elements. We must 
therefore always admire the multitude of great thoughts and 
happy views, which are displayed to us in the earlier contem- 
plations of the world during the childhood of the human race. 



TO DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE WORLD. 269 

Besides, they possess this peculiar beauty, that the mind 
of man produces only such creations as can be easily com- 
prehended by the mind of man. Finally, in addition, that 
these almost pure productions of the mind do not easily lose 
themselves in a mass of individual objects, but present the 
i^and ideas with appropriate reciprocal nearness and connec- 
tion to one another. Much indeed of this, but not nearly all, 
may be applied to the productions of the spirit of the Middle 
Ages. Externally it was under too much restraint for its 
productions to possess the same natui*e as the earlier ones of 
the human race. The spirit was, if we may so express it, 
nourished on foreign opinions, and not fertilized by mighty 
nature ; and on that account the intensity of spirit which we 
discover, may be most nearly compared to the splendour of 
luxuriant flowers. The spirit of chivalry and architecture 
bear this scholastic stamp, and exhibit a certain subtilty, 
though we cannot deny besides, that a part of the eternal 
glory of nature (and indeed no small portion) is here mani- 
fested in the same degree as in all the other forms in which 
a period has developed itself. But in our o^^tl century we 
have again seen a similar mistaken tendency to appro- 
priate the forms of the Middle Ages; so that our author, 
who does not justify this himself, will certainly agree with 
us in warning against such a tendency ; even if he should 
not quite agi'ee with our views of the period. There is some- 
thins: in the whole condition of our natural science which 
strongly induces us to prefer it to the older method of research. 
The great universal truths, which should proceed from our 
researches, are so scattered in the enormous mass of facts, 
that they are easily overlooked. We cannot, besides, deny, 
that the majority of naturalists lose themselves in single 
inquiries, and but too rarely look upwards to the whole. In 
passing this judgment, hovrever, we must admit that the 
reason why a great universal truth is often 7iot brought for- 
ward, may be that men are not satisfied with its certainty, 
until it has been proved, in clear accordance with experience ; 
which from the imperfection of our thoughts, as much as our 
experience, frequently does not happen during whole genera- 
tions. It, therefore, were much to be wished, that men of 
comprehensive and well-grounded knowledge, would more 
often attempt to communicate the great general truths 
towards which science has led ; yet, at the same time, the 



270 iielatio:n' of nattjkaI/ science 

cultivated world, by instruc'-ion in the different branches of 
natural science, must be better prepared for its reception, a 
result which we certainly now see more and more prospect of 
realising. 

On the difference between the magic of the Middle Ages 
and the physics of Modern Times, the author (p. 27.) makes 
the truly accm^ate observation, that in former times it was 
assumed that all similar things sought for union ; in latter 
days, on the contrary, that similar things avoid each other, 
and that dissimilar things, on the contrary, seek to unite. 
But the progress of the last few generations appears to have 
removed this contradiction. Nothing is in opposition to itself, 
except so far as it at the same time possesses something in 
common; a line cannot be an antithesis to any thing but 
another line, — not to a surface, nor to a body : one kind of 
electricity can only be in antithesis to the other ; the mag- 
netism of the north only to the magnetism of the south. 
The same is proved in Chemistry. Those bodies which 
hitherto we have not been able to analyse must, therefore, 
have this in common, that they resist all our decomposing 
agents, even the most powerful, and have also such properties 
in common that they may be considered as one peculiar class, 
which, without meddling with hypotheses, we may name 
the first class. 

In this way we recognise the antitheses of combustible 
bodies, and those capable of supporting combustion. These 
possess a great mutual chemical attraction, and, by uniting, 
form bodies of a new order of composition, which makes the 
second class, and consists of oxides, in the most extensive 
signification of the word, of chlorides, sulphides, &c. Acids 
and alkalis (in the most extensive meaning of the word) are 
the antitheses here ; and, as is well known, the tendency to 
unite between these two groups is very great. These form 
the class of the salts, which is the third and last among inor- 
ganic things, at least so far as our arrangement of facts has 
hitherto reached. It is now, however, remarkable, that the 
bodies of the first and of the second, or of the first and third, 
cannot generally enter into direct combination with one 
another. Neither is it usual that bodies of the second and 
third class can be combined, if we except that which, in the 
second class, approaches the point of equilibrium or indif- 
ference between acids and alkalis. On the other hand, the 



TO DIFFEREXT PEKIODS OF THE AVOr.LD. 271 

bodies of the same class, which stand in very slight, or almost 
unknown antithesis, to each other will combine, if they arc 
not prevented by connection or something of that kind. In 
the present enormous mass of combinations, there may indeed 
still exist many subdivisions, in which the law to which we 
have pointed will be developed with far greater exactitude. 
It is sufficient to say here, that bodies, so far as they can 
be arranged without fresh inquiry, point to the law that 
there can be no union without a certain affinity; nor can 
there be a lively, well-marked union, by which the body 
assumes properties which conduct it into a new order 
of composition, and make it a new product, without an 
antithesis within the limits of this group ; so that the same 
law, only far less defined, may be found to exist in inorganic 
nature as much as in organic, where new productions pre- 
suppose a union between beings of the same kind, but of 
opposite sex. Affinity thus would be the condition of union, 
antithesis of their action. Thus, the views of older times on 
the tendency to unite have some correctness, as well as those 
of later times. 

With reference to the position, that things which posset 
opposite properties seek to unite, the author says that this 
happens, in the opinion of some, in order to restore a dis- 
turbed equilibrium; according to others, to remove a real 
antithesis. Ought these assertions to mean more than an 
expression for the same things in two different modes of re- 
presentation ? If we take the word equilibrium in its most 
extensive sense, where we can speak of electric equilibrium, 
magnetic equilibrium, &c., then every egression from the 
state of equilibrium is the result of antithesis, and every 
restoration of equilibrium, the destruction of antithesis. If 
we view things in their action, we may call antitheses oppo- 
site tendencies, and the co-operation of equal opposite ten- 
dencies, equilibrium. If we are right here, many disputes 
between natural philosophers and physicists would fall to 
pieces ; for the same persons who hold it to be incomprehen- 
sible when we say that all antitheses of existence pass into 
an identity, will probably find no difficulty in granting that 
all moving forces form an equilibrium, as, for instance, all 
magnetic forces, all chemical forces, &c. But as naturalists 
have gradually become more acquainted with these antitheses, 
and have seen that many differences, which formerly appeared 



272 RELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

incapable of being united in their first principles, are only 
different kinds of the antitheses of these forces, they are 
obliged to allow the probability of the fundamental principle 
which Natural philosophers represent as certain. 

We here find ourselves obliged to omit much which deserves 
to be fully treated ; but we must limit ourselves, that we may 
not find it necessary to write an entire book. We, therefore, 
pass over what has been said of Roger Bacon, of the prede- 
cessors of the new condition of science, &c., and (what we 
still more lament) we cannot, without being too diffuse, treat 
W'hat the author says on the Reformation, of which most of 
our readers, even if we communicated the w^hole, would still 
be desirous of hearing a still farther explanation. We will 
limit ourselves therefore to the introduction of a few beau- 
tiful passages, which show the relation in which he places 
Religion to Science, and more especially to Natural Science. 
After having depicted the events and changes in the treat- 
ment of Science, which were prepared by the new period, 
he says, — 

" The true regeneration of time, the germ of the entire 
living metamorphosis, w^as the Reformation ; and it is not 
possible to develop its full meaning without pointing out, in 
anticipation, all the stages of its development even to our ' 
own days; nay, even to those which have not yet unfolded 
themselves. 

'^ It is certain that the Reformation would not have come 
to light, without the frightful deterioration of the church. 
But this deterioration was the negative condition of its origin 
— the covering rent in twain, from which the new birth 
stepped forth. As the Greek wisdom, the enduring basis of ail 
mental inquiry, so far as it can be termed purely human, stepped 
forth from the veil of disfigured myths, and refreshed the 
slumbering spirit ; as the book of Nature, which was closed 
in distorted tradition, opened and invited spirits to direct 
research, — so that Holy Book, the only source of all higher 
life, was now to be presented to the whole race of man. The 
writings of the Greek philosophers were torn from the 
hands of sophistical speculators, the book of Nature from 
the hands of fantastic dreamers ; then also appeared once 
more the revelation which had been mischievously suppressed. 
When this happened, the power of mere sensible phenomena, 
which had fettered and held down aU free religious deve- 



TO DIFFERENT PEKIODS OF THE WOELD. 273 

lopment, vanished ; when the Holy Writings poured fortli 
their life the magic which had infatuated the senses lost 
its force; the enchantment rose to a j^iwe sentiment^ and a 
living faith was again powerful in the world." 

On the relation of Science to Religion, he says, among 
other things, (p. 57,) *' It is indeed not to be denied, that the 
realisation of the highest idea of Christian faith only then 
begins, when it penetrates all those movements of earthly 
life which are rendered capable by grace of a higher blessed- 
ness, and not when, as in the earlier churches, the sensa- 
tional and the earthly are regarded as the original element, 
which should be elevated as such to a higher position. On the 
contrary, the earthly when quickened by that which is higher, 
by grace, appears as a stepping-stone to that loftier truth 
which we have now recognised, gained, and believed in. 
^Miile this higher idea penetrates the earthly, it is ennobled 
and exalted by it, and is viewed not as a good in itself, but 
as a stage of development towards a blessed world. The 
early church had however, entered into dangerous league 
Avith the sensuous ; it was a2:ainst this that the struo:2le of 
the regenerated faith was directed ; and it was natural, indeed 
necessary, that it should at once abandon all which, accord- 
ing to its view, was infected with error, and was following 
a mistaken religious tendency. Thus arose a separation of 
all science from religion, unkno^vn in earlier times, and, 
according to this principle, even philosophy for the first time 
became ivorldly wisdom." Ever)' believer must indeed hope 
that all history and natm-al science will at some period be 
amalgamated with faith, but there must be a preparation for 
this expected time. Inquiry had become free by the sepa- 
ration of the earthly from the divine, and even the somewhat 
narrow view with which Theology was studied, could not 
destroy this freedom. 

P. 59. '' Every inquirer might expect that farther inquiry 
would lead to deeper insight into divine wisdom, but none 
could fear that a well-grounded unfettered research would lead 
to the discovery of feebleness in the divine guidance of his- 
tory, or in the divine order in nature. 

'* Thus arose that flexibility and activity in all inquiry which 
created a new era. Natural science was especially promoted; 
for it could not remain hidden, that when historical pheno- 
mena came imder consideration, arbitrary opinions exercised 

T 



274 BELATION OF NATUKAL SCIENCE 

a dangerous power over the subject that the views on history ; 
on the social relations of man, as much in the great circles of 
the state as in the smaller ones of domestic life, thence 
became unsteady, and shared the insecurity and mobility of 
opinions ; indeed, where they became fanatical through a 
dangerous connection with religion, they exercised a most 
mischievous influence on morality. Nature, however, exhi- 
bited a constant, invariable order, which, sublime above every 
erroneous opinion, by continuous research, destroyed every 
delusion which might still be clung to. Each opinion that 
was overthrown, became a stimulus for further inquiry and ' 
more careful examination ; the more insecure a prevalent view 
became, so much the more attractive seemed the eternal order 
and immovable harmony of nature to the inquirers ; and every 
mistake, instead of producing inward mental confusion, gave 
a new and more independent impulse towards that which 
made the inquirers always more distinctly cognizant of their 
inner affinity with the spirit, w^hile apparently it withdrew 
them from a nearer approach to it. This deviation from the 
opinions generally entertained, did not produce persecution, 
or any external check, because the highest religious interests 
were only attached to philosophy by the hope of a future con- 
nection with knowledge being established, not by any distinct 
form of knowledge, which alone was to be considered as 
religious." 

P. 61. He passes to the particular treatment of the in- 
fluence of natural science on later centuries. "If," he says, 
"we would ask, for what reason the present time, as it 
has fashioned itself during the last three or four centuries, 
is so distinct from previous centuries, we must not hesitate 
to answer, that the chief reason of the peculiarity lies in 
physics; and we hope, in pm-suance of our representation, 
to make it clear that he who passes a well-considered 
judgment on our own age, if he overlooks the influence of 
this doctrine, does no more than touch the surface. Physics 
form a powerful centre, from which all the sources of know- 
ledge have been attracted, as they unfolded themselves in aU 
spheres of mental activity; and in the widest circles, even 
w^here knowledge lost itself in action, and science in the 
product, its power is traced in every mental as well as ex- 
ternal character of the period." 

Copernicus' discovery on the system of the world is of 



TO DIFF£R£^'T PERIODS OF THE WORLD. 275 

.:: finite historic value. Many, perhaps even in that day, felt 
how much would fall to pieces with the overthrow of the 
ancient system of astronomy. 

P. 64. '' But those belonging to the early church, where it 
was still powerful, must have most deeply felt how it was 
shaken by these ^-iews. When they appealed to that well- 
known passage in the Bible, they concealed their real fears. 
The immovable, invariable, visible government of the church 
could find no secure home on a moving planet, which circu- 
lated with another, round one common and more distant centre. 
The axe was laid to the root of all existing views of nature, 
the deepest foundation of all previous knowledge was under- 
mined. The reflective consciousness of the age was becoming 
familiar with the past of its o^\tl mental history; a hopeful 
future disclosed to the inquiring mind the endless variety of 
living and dead forms ; the religious consciousness threw off 
the chains of a fettering tradition and the delusion of works, 
and recognised the inner relation of its eternal personality to 
a loving and reconciled God. It was Copernicus who freed 
it from the last chains, so that it became at home in the 
whole universe. In every direction infinitude was opened to 
the inquiring mind." 

P. 66. '• The views of Copernicus were the boldest acts of 
analyzing reflection. The mind took root in the reposing 
earth, held fast in an embryo state, and all thoughts shot like 
the vegetable out of this integument, but could not dissolve 
the magic, nor break the bonds, so as to enable themselves, 
like the animal, to have a movement of their own." (We see 
that the author compares the fettered mind to the plant in 
the ground, which cannot leave its position ; whereas the 
spirit freely moving through the whole universe, maj be com- 
pared to the animal, which is not confined to any particular 
place.) " Copernicus destroyed the phenomenon, in order 
that we might determine it as one for ever. We say the 
jyhenomenon, for that which sensibly appears to all men in 
common is more than appearance. As he was the first, so 
also he remained the last. Although the whole of that period 
owes its peculiar development to this bold idea, no one had 
as yet ventured to suppose a semblance, behind other pheno- 
mena, which by expknation could be recognised as a phe- 
nomenon of deeper reflection. What prevented the phy- 
sicists fi-om choosing this path r It was this : in order that 

T 2 



276 DELATION or NATURAL SCIENCE 

a phenomenal world might vstand in correlation with the 
original ideas of reflection, this world must appear as an 
outward infinity to the inward reflection ; the original ideas 
of reflection, ho\veYer, as an infinite aggregate of finite things. 
If there appeared anything in this aggregate recognised as 
infinite, and not brought under the conditions of sense, then 
the reality of the chosen point of view would have been 
destroyed; we will show with what iron consequence the 
advancing age retained the once-chosen point of view." 

We have selected this passage because it forms an impor- 
tant link in the thoughts of the author, though the conclu- 
sion he arrives at, does not seem quite clear to us. Perhaps 
it may not be disagreeable to most of our readers, if we 
endeavour to express the meaning, as far as in our power, in 
other words. We think it is this : — In the earlier views of 
the world, the mind was accustomed to imagine aU existence 
to be, as it appears to us, visibly, but not as a phenomenon of 
very difierent reality, which could only be contemplated by 
the eye of reason. There was no question here of a common 
deception of the senses, but of a necessary conception taken 
from the customary point of view, by all men ; which never- 
theless was infinitely separated from that to which we are led 
by a deeper insight. But if reflection were to stop here, then 
the variety of objects amongst which it had discovered a 
connection, must at once appear to it as independent. If we 
attempted to resolve them again into phenomena, we must 
remove the reflective point of view somewhat further back, 
and form a new world of thought, whose greater resolvability 
might be again questioned ; but in the direction which was 
taken in the first mode of reflection, we should scarcely have 
felt induced to advance with firm footsteps. The author 
does not now point his censure against that extreme solution 
of all reflection, in consequence of which the whole of exis- 
tence in space is only a phenomenon, whose foundation is 
alone found in the eternal forms of reason ; for no physi- 
cist, but, as is well known, the philosophers of all periods, 
have ventured to hold this opinion. But physicists would 
not venture as physicists, for it is really metaphysical ; that 
is to say, it is something which, in the ascending order of 
research, follows physics, or, in other words, lies beyond 
them. But by various hints in the progress of his work, we 
might perhaps surmise that he had this point in view, namely, 



TO DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE WORLD. 277 

tliat as the movements of the world are the manifestations of 
a more essential existence, so also we should consider bodies 
not merely as phenomena of a super-sensual existence, as in 
metaphysics, but as active forces whose existence is proved 
in the way of experiment. Towards this, however, the 
whole of chemical science tends, although hitherto it has 
certainly not yet reached the stage of development which 
corresponds to that wdiich Copernicus reached in astronomy. 
The various researches in science, partly such as were insti- 
tuted many generations ago, tend more and more to such a 
result. It was known long ago that solidity, liquidity, and 
the gaseous state w^ere forms of bodies which depended on an 
internal condition of heat ; but w^e arrived at the erroneous 
conclusion that solidity was the fundamental property of 
bodies, w^hile the liquid and gaseous bodies were viewed as 
solutions of solid bodies in the admitted caloric. But now 
that the conviction became more general among the physicists, 
that heat consists in radiated action, which has an affinity 
with that of light, and that inner heat may itself depend on 
heat-radiation: then this theory of solution falls to pieces, 
and the three conditions of matter may depend, as we may 
admit, on the unequal velocity with which inner heat-radia- 
tion takes place. It is supposed in this representation of the 
case, that in all bodies there is an incessant inner movement, 
and between all bodies an incessant giving and taking of 
radiant heat, an uninterrupted inner action, which formerly 
the mere chemist scarcely dreamt of, and to which he now 
hardly pays sufficient attention. 

Electro-magnetic action, on the one hand, has proved that 
a circulation accompanies every chemical action, whether, 
Mdth the discoverer, we place the circulation in the electric 
form of action, or, with Ampere, in the magnetic. But as 
everything is incessantly occupied with a reciprocal chemical 
action, so also electro-magnetic action flows incessantly through 
everything, and all this is penetrated by a hidden circula- 
tion, invisible to the eye, but clearly apparent to the mind. 

The atomic system, which is a completely metaphysical 
system, has but few defenders among the physicists. They 
regard it as a question which does not concern their science, 
whether a continual division, carried beyond all the limits of 
possible experience, would at length lead to indivisible small 
bodies of determined form and infinite hardness, &c. But, 



278 RELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

on tlie other hand, they do rot see any proofs of the opposite 
system, that all bodies, at least all liquid bodies, must be 
perfectly connected (constant) occupants of space. They 
consider it much more probable that the plastic force of 
nature penetrates the inanimate as much as the animate, from 
the larger down to the smaller parts, beyond the limits of our 
perceptive faculties. Bodies, in their opinion, are connected 
by intervals (discretse). The position maintained in Kant's 
dynamical theory of nature, that chemical union is an 
infinite penetration, in that every constituent in chemical 
composition fills all space with perfect connection (continuity), 
is held by them as incom^patible with chemical experience, 
which frequently proves that the same materials, even where 
there is the same relation of the multifarious constituents, 
form different chemical results. 

An ample experience has shown a connection between 
chemical compounds, and the forms which bodies assume. 
But the physicist, who is tied down by no metaphysical sys- 
tem, neither admits that the crystal is. produced from its 
elementary parts, as the house from bricks ; nor, on the other 
hand, that each crystal is a perfect connected occupant of 
space ; but he admits mutual dependence between the parts 
and the whole. Every body, however, has a tendenc^ 
towards a certain ^brm, and so far as the different force- 
neither destroy one another, nor perish together, these forms 
would be still more compounded, the more numerous the 
fundamental constituents. 

Now if we can admit that there is the smallest possibl;^ 
space for each figure to form and to preserve itself, then ther 
must exist elementary parts (molecules) of a certain mag- 
nitude for each composition, which, however, are infinitely 
removed from an atom. The elementary part cannot cer- 
tainly be divided without ceasing to be a thing of the same 
kind as it was before ; but nothing prevents us from conceiv- 
ing that it may be resolved by division into parts of a diffe- 
rent kind. The atom, on the other hand, must in every way 
be indivisible. This manner of viewing chemical combina- 
tions has, indeed, come into such bad repute with dynamical 
philosophers, that many chemists do not venture to confess to 
it ; but, as we do not believe that the arguments which can be 
brought against it are really so alarming, we will not allow 
ourselves to be deterred. 



TO DIFPERENT PEHIODS OF THE WORLD 279 

It may be mentioned in passing, that with reference to 
what has just been said, we cannot agree with the author 
when he accuses those physicists of inconclusiveness who 
have assumed moleculce in pLice of atoms. Atoms, namely, 
belong to a supposition which lies wholly beyond physics ; 
moleculce, on the other hand, to a supposition which claims 
no more validity than what results from this, that they are 
necessary to understand observed facts. 

Whether the fundamental parts are solid, fluid, or gaseous, 
is a question which is founded on misapprehension. Solidity, 
liquidity, or the gaseous form, are conditions which only refer 
to masses which already form systems of fundamental parts, 
and not merely fundamental parts themselves. 

All inner heat-radiation passes between these fundamental 
parts. The greater number of fundamental parts in a certain 
space, and the greater reflections of heat, so much the 
sreater, it is evident, is the inner heat : in other words, if 
all other things are alike, so much the greater is the total 
amount of heat (specific heat). We see that this doctrine 
agrees with the beautiful experiment of Dulong. We now 
also easily perceive, that when a body is placed in a new con- 
dition, in which the fundamental parts either approach nearer 
to one another, or enter into a relation in which they less 
easily yield, and therefore repel more powerfully, all the 
mutual radiations are completed with greater velocity ; the 
body thus gives out more heat-rays from itself, but, inwardly, 
retains a smaller amount of them. It would thus, as is said, 
give out more heat, but retain less. This, however, happens 
every time, when the body is either brought into a smaller 
space, or approaches still closer to the condition of solidity. 
On the other hand, Vv'hen it passes to a less degree of density 
or to a greater internal mobility of its particles, according to 
oiu- principles as well as our experience, the contrary effect 
takes place. 

If we unite all this to our more generally extended 
knowledge, we see that the physicist cannot admit into his 
science the conceptions common to ordinary life, namely, that 
material existence, so far as it strikes our senses, is actual 
reality, and the bearer of all other reality. He must not 
alone grant that the properties of bodies depend on their 
chemical nature, (a fact which has been long perceived.) but 
it must stand clearly before his mind, that bodies are only 



280 HELATIOK OF KATUEAL SCIENCE 

phenomena which are produced by active forces, of which no 
single one is in itself a body ; even more than this, he can- 
not view bodies as something constantly existing, which is so 
entirely the silent supposition of the experience of ordiiiar}" 
life ; he must perceive that that which is, does not exist a 
single moment by itself^ but only through a constant reci- 
procal action w^th all that surrounds it, and more or less 
directly with the entire iiniverse. 

We have certainly not found it necessary to call in the aid 
of a new doctrine, to prove that the physicist must perceive 
this. He has already long been forced to say to himself, 
that that which we see in the body is its effect on light, and 
through this on our eye ; what we feel in it, are repelling or 
attractive forces ; what we smell or taste in it, are chemical 
effects ; in short, that all we know of bodies is, only that 
there is something active in the space which they occupy. 

We have already had occasion to consider bodies as depend- 
ing on a constant reciprocal action, but recent discoveries 
appear, nevertheless, to contribute much to render the idea 
we are now treating still more vivid. 

We hope that there will not be many readers whom it is 
necessary to inform, that it is always, not merely important, 
but absolutely necessary, in the experience of ordinary life, 
to conceive of bodies, and to express ourselves about them, in 
the usual manner : just as we say the sun and moon rise or 
set, although we know very well that it is only the revolution 
of the earth which alters their position. Even in the very 
iirst principles of science, we remain at the same point of view ; 
and the astronomy of the spheres offers us a well known 
example of this. But physics as little as astronomy can 
remain at this point ; it must clearly embrace the great truth, 
that all bodies are only phenomena, which are produced by 
invisible, constant, active forces. 

The passage before us, which we have treated in such 
detail, offers an example of the difficult modes of expo- 
sition which are so often found in the writings of German 
philosophers, and which yet the author has sought to avoid 
in the present treatise. But, perhaps, we might demand 
more from a man with his gift of representation. It is 
worthy of remark, that the philosophers of Germany have 
too frequently shown entire indifference with respect to 
their style. Even the complication of their sentences is a 



TO DIFFEKENT FERIODS OF TBE WORLD, 281 

great obstacle to their being read ; for though it is indeed 
easy to construe an intricate sentence, if it is correctly 
formed, (which is not always the case,) yet a difficulty inces- 
santly repeated is extremely fatiguing. This difficulty is 
much increased by the great assemblage of technical terms. 
But not only do we meet with difficulties in the style, but also 
in the whole arrangement of the plan ; we find too little care 
to make the difficult matter as comprehensible as the nature 
of things permits. As the mathematician has not fulfilled 
the demands of his science, if he does not bring his demon- 
strations to the greatest possible brevity and clearness, so 
also the philosopher has not certainly fulfilled far greater 
demands which are before him, if he has not first brought 
his thoughts to the utmost maturity and clearness before his 
own mind, and thus has endeavoured in his representation to 
cany back the truths to their shortest and most visible ex- 
pression. In the scientific style of some few we find a love 
which embraces, undivided, not merely the truths themselves, 
but the reasoning beings which are to receive them, and which 
gives a wonderful force to their statements. This, perhaps, 
is more clearly exemplified by Pascal than by any other phi- 
losopher. Although many will be little inclined to believe 
this, it is nevertheless true that this character may be also 
discerned among mathematicians, and among others, in Euler, 
who was as worthy of admiration as he was amiable. In 
Fichte this love of truth appears with such distrust of the 
capacity of his readers, that we are overwhelmed with un- 
necessary explanations, and on that account we are apt to lose 
sight of the right point of view. With most other German 
philosophers, we discover a similar undervaluation of those 
who do not stand on a level with themselves. This is some- 
times expressed by a proud reserve, sometimes by a haughti- 
ness, which now has been so often imitated by intellectual 
Don Ranudo's, that those who feel themselves inclined to 
it. by a certain feeling of their own strength, should be 
deterred, when they behold their failing through such a 
fri<i-htfuriy strong magnifying power. 

It is doubtless unfair to require a finished discourse while 
the ideas are scarcely matured, and while opponents cause 
one to take a peculiar course in the statement of them. But we 
think that it is time to say, that more ought to have been done 
than has been done. Speculative philosophy, doubtless, by 



282 SELATIOK OE ]>^ATUIIAL SCIENCE 

the obscurity of style, which neither does nor can belong to 
its nature, has frightened away many of the friends of truth, 
and attracted many of those who are merely imitators. How- 
ever, it will soon be seen that the present censure only 
applies to certain passages in the treatise before us, and that 
we have no intention to deny a well-merited reputation to 
the spirit and eloquence which are exhibited in the author's 
discourse. The reader will find a fresh example of this 
deserved reputation in the following passage, where the 
author, in reference to the discovery of the telescope, speaks 
of the spirit which rules over all the apparently accidental 
coincidences by which great mental changes are prepared, 

" This important gift was presented as from a hidden hand 
to the excited spirit. Could it have been chance ? Survey 
that period in all its relations ; how, in the most di£Perent 
directions, spirits the most opposite in nature understood 
each other ; how buried treasures disclosed themselves ; how 
a new world was presented to the astonished nations ; how 
chance and fortune, nature and soul, met together; how 
thoughts, like lightning, darted forth here and there, as it 
were, without connection ; how a secret bond influenced the 
most distant events, all armed to disturb a period that had 
reached maturity, all full of fruitful seed to give birth to a 
new period ; and if God has endowed you with an organ to 
trace the development of the common principle of life, then 
you will recognise what is always to be found, when a new 
period is being ushered in." 

As such ideas, especially when they are separated from 
their proper connection, may possibly appear to the reader a 
mere efibrt of elocution, we will add a few words ourselves. 
All the laws of existence are the laws of reason, but not 
merely an assemblage but a system of such laws ; in other 
words, an arrangement of reason, in which every thing viewed 
in relation to its origin proves itself necessary^ and viewed 
from its results proves itself to be ivise. All that takes place 
is prepared by what precedes, prepares what follows, and is 
connected with the whole. Although this happens every- 
where, it is yet exhibited in a very remarkable manner, 
when we consider the great periods which change the human 
race, and which at the same time make turning-points in 
the flow of human events. He whose mental eye is not yet 
accustomed to discern the inner living connection of these 



TO DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE WORLD. 283 

things, will here arrive at it most easily ; he who already 
knows it will feel a heightened pleasui-e and satisfaction in 
the consideration. 

The writer of the present criticism once intended to treat 
the remainder of the treatise before ns with brevity, but was 
led both by the author and the subject beyond the limits 
which he believed he ought to keep. He must therefore, 
from this point, deny himself the pleasure of communicating 
more from this paper, with the exception of some short 
extracts, or of dwelling more frequently on particular pas- 
sages. We will therefore confine ourselves, in what follows, 
to the notice of different passages where there is a hint of the 
polemical views of the author, which were first intended to 
be published in succeeding numbers. We think he will often 
feel himself tempted to combat, views which have already 
begun to be abandoned by experimental philosophers, and 
that he will not be able to stand against the explanations 
which experimental philosophy can give. 

The author says much against fictitious Matter, such as 
heat, light, electricity, magnetism ; and he promises to con- 
test these points still farther. But I think that they will be 
forced to leave the battle-ground, without the interference of 
so powerful an adversary. It has been rendered exceedingly 
probable, by the latest investigations, as we are ready to 
admit with him, that light is produced by vibrations in a gene- 
rally distributed subtle matter, which we call aether ; but if 
Hght consists in such \ibrations, radiant heat must equally 
consist in this, and it is already long since we have had 
sufficient reason to consider heat . as a radiation, which is 
only distinguished from light by slower vibrations. But the 
facility by which we are able to change electricity into heat, 
whenever we lay obstacles in the path of its stream, seems 
to betray that -electricity no less depends on vibrations, and 
that these only require to be brought nearer together, to con- 
stitute vibrations of heat. This, besides, is still more strongly 
confirmed by the fact, that heat passes by good conductors 
into electricity, as we perceive in thermo-electric Gxperi- 
ments ; although circumstances must also occur, by which the 
direction is immediately determined. Magnetic actions are 
inseparable from electric ones, and differing as they do from 
the latter only by the direction of their action, which is per- 
pendicular to the electrical, it would be exceedingly strange 



284 BELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE 

to assume a special matter for eacli. Every one who knows 
the chemical electric researches of our century, will easily 
see, how much even our conceptions of chemical actious, and 
consequently also of chemical compositions, therefore of all 
bodies appearing in daily experience, are dependent on them. 

The author thinks that this is just the time to originate a 
physical philosophy of qualities, which, as he is of opinion, is 
unknown in the hitherto developed doctrine. "We answer 
that natural science has never been so much bent on resolving 
qualities into quantities as at the present period. What can 
deserve the name of quality better than colours? But, 
according to the system justified by the author, as wxll as 
ourselves, colours only differ by the unequal velocity of vibra- 
tions, by which they are produced. W^e can even measure 
the breadth of their waves. The author considers the doc- 
trine of our period on light, to be full of hypothesis, which he 
compares to the Ptolemaic doctrine of the system of the 
world ; but if he does not wish to follow the system of Biot, 
to which we can scarcely find any adherents, he will not be 
able to prove this. Let him represent the results of the pre- 
sent period with the same impartiality which he has exhibited 
in that of the past, and we venture to promise that he will 
not be less satisfied with them. 

It is true that in our text- books natural operations have an 
appearance of dismemberment, and a want of connection, 
which is the reason that many can find no unity in them, but 
still it does exist. It is, however, certain that chapters 
devoted to a general oversight should be introduced into the 
text-books, by which the spirit of the whole may be embraced. 

When the author says that Volta's battery, in physics, has 
become a Tower of Babel, he appears to lay too much stress on 
a mass of disputes about different conditions on which there 
should be no dispute at all, because w^e have not yet disco- 
vered the facts which can loosen the knot. But should it not 
be considered a great gain that we have come to the decision 
that acidity depends upon the same forces as that which sup- 
ports combustion, and that the alkaline quality depends upon 
the same as combustibility? or that chemical actions may 
permeate through bodies without being attended by matter ? 
That the system adopted by chemists is not in itself so con- 
nected and arranged as it might be with the materials offered, 
no one is more inclined to grant than the writer of the present 



TO diffehent periods of the world. 2So 

notice. But the author seems to have formed much too un- 
favourable conceptions of our period. 

P. 119. " Xo human mind can jDenetrate into the inner 
part of nature, say the physicists ; we content ourselves 
with ^-iewing nature as she is, say they, and in abstracting 
universal laws from exjjeriences^ surrendering all claims to 
knowledge of first causes. But what do you understand by 
universal laws? Only such, by which whatever appears 
without order in nature is recognised by the inquirer as 
united to a hi2:her unitv. If, however, that which vou recos- 
nise in an abstract unity now, only serves completely to 
scatter that which nature and which your experience offer 
to you as a imity, so that this which truly is, changes in your 
hands into an entirely lawless composition of your abstrac- 
tions, what have you gained :"' 

To this we answer, that even if many naturalists say that 
the laws of nature are abstractions, yet this is not true. They 
behe themselves from a want of philosophical research into 
their own beings. The discovery of a natural law scarcelv 
ever occurs by mere abstraction. It is a fortunate glance into 
nature, by which the rule is discovered through which she 
acts. We convince ourselves of its correctness, bv causins: 
nature to act before our eyes, and to express her laws under 
the most different circimistances ; or we search for a pheno- 
menon in wide-spread nature, in which she expresses herself m 
the most distinct manner in accordance with the present 
knowledge. It is with natm-alists as with other artists; 
they think and act correctly, in consequence of a fortunate 
suggestion, which they owe to a peculiar turn of mind, uuited 
to a closer and more intimate acquaintance with the matter. 
But, nevertheless, they only philosophize moderately on the 
nature of their whole art, and this will be especially the case 
when they have obtained a sprinkling of school philosophy, 
which is certainly worse than nothing. The most beautiful 
discoveries in natural science have sprung from researches 
which were undertaken according to the demand of reason. 
Was the fundamental law of electricity or the electrical 
nature of light, and the lightning conductor, discovered by an 
abstraction? Was Yolta's condenser and electric battery, or 
the laws on which they are founded, discovered by an abstrac- 
tion ? Did the physicists, after they had adopted the opinion 
that all kinds of earth were burnt metals, wait till all the 



28b BELATICN OF KATUEAL SCIENCE 

earths had been examined in reference to this, or were they 
not rather already convinced as soon as they found that it 
answered for one ? It is quite a different thing that they did 
not consider the claims of science satisfied, till all kinds of 
earths had been submitted, in reference to this, to a research. 
It is also very possible that some physicists may have expressed 
themselves too strongly on the slight uncertainty which still 
hung over it after the first discovery. But it is quite evident 
that all their endeavours betrayed the conviction of the 
universality of the laws of nature. 

It is equally certain that all naturalists who have vigorously 
promoted science, were penetrated by the conviction that all 
the laws of nature are laws of reason, although this was rarely 
expressed with distinctness. But the confidence with which 
they had derived one natural law from another on the prin- 
ciple of reason, proves sufficiently that they take for granted 
they shall find in nature what reason promises. At the 
same time, this pre-supposition implies that the laws of nature 
form a system of laws, and as this is a system of the laws of 
reason, it thence again follows, that all nature is an arrange- 
ment of reason, and that it is the business of naturalists to 
seek for reason in nature. We willingly confess that this is 
not very evident to all naturalists ; but we believe that none 
who have really attempted to inquire into nature herself, will 
deny it. As to what mere book-makers say, this naturally 
does not apply to us. 

The author says further (p. 119), " Simple substances are 
the substrata to physics, as the roots of words are to language. 
We select two, silver and diamonds. How do they appear 
in your text-books .^ In the tables of specific gravity, of 
absolute and relative cohesion, of refraction, of the conduction 
of heat, of specific heat, of the electric conductor and isola- 
tors, in the tables of galvanism, of electro-magnetism, of 
thermo -magnetism, of chemical affinities, &c. ? We find them 
introduced with some of these properties, determined in their 
gradual relations, even to the fourth and fifth decimals. And 
now bring out what has been so dismembered in your tables, 
and place it together. And is this silver and the diamond ? 
How can we hope to behold these properties in one unity, 
which is the very same as actually exists in experience, not- 
withstanding the point of view on which you have placed 
yourselves, is that of sensible experience." 



TO DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE ^VOULD. 287 

We ^vill not pause at the inexactitude the author shows 
when he expresses himself as if the physicist did uo more 
with undivided bodies than inscribe their properties in his 
tables ; whde really he seeks to give a complete notion of 
them, by presenting to us their united qualities. 

It certainly vs-as not the intention of the author to raise 
such an unfounded excuse. But if he requires that a unity 
should be presented in these properties, he requires some- 
thing which can scarcely be performed in that which hitherto 
has been undivided, and which he himself could scarcely do. 
But the most important point in the whole censure, is the 
use which he makes of the assertion, that naturalists have 
placed themselves on the basis of mere sensuous existence. 
The nature of experimental science is undeniably this : — that 
the inquirer proceeds fi'om experience, permits himself to be 
guided by it, and uses it to confirm the ideas which he forms 
for himself on the events of nature : but he seeks for reason 
in nature with all the powers of his mind, and does not 
remain at the mere sensuous point of vdew. It is things m 
iheir growth which he should make the object of his science ; 
what he could not see while it was produced, he must leave 
as that which is sensibly given. Elementaiy materials are 
certainly his radical words. — and must not the grammarian 
leave most of the radical words unexplained ? 

It appears that the author in these pages entii-ely deserts 
the clear view of experimental science which is to be found 
in the preceding pages. For instance, he offers as an argu- 
ment against the law that heat expands all bodies^ that there 
are real exceptions. Granted that there are exceptions to 
this, for which we could not account, shall such a universal 
comprehensive law, which is exhibited in such a countless 
number of natural events, no longer remain a law : In that 
case, the law discovered by Xewton on the motions of the 
moon wo.uld be no law. so long as the gTOunds were not found 
for the many small deviations which were not discovered for 
a century afterwards. That water expands at a coolness of 
4" centigrade, is certainly an exception ; but this we easily 
perceive is connected with the changes which occm- in the 
position of the parts by the force of ciystallization, which 
certainly begins to act before the fi'eezuig point. This is 
not indeed enough to satisfy us, but sufficient not to allow us 
tc consider the fact as an important exception. Sulphuric 



288 EELATION OF NATURAL SCIENCE. 

acid and water yield far more heat than we should expect hy 
their less degree of condensation, when compared to the heat 
that is yielded by the far greater condensation of the gases. 
But it appears to be a law that the condensation of soUd 
bodies yields far more heat than that of the gases. This sub- 
ordinate law accounts for many deviations. As for the rest, 
all physicists willingly grant that the doctrine of heat, as well 
as all other portions of natural science, is still very imperfect. 
But they believe that it will be brought nearer to unity and 
other perfection by a further application of the experimental 
method hitherto employed with so much success. 

We have considered it our duty to meet this treatise with 
candid opposition, as well as with an open acknowledgment 
of the many excellencies which it contains. If the author 
will now with impartiality himself say that, which the accu- 
racy of the different kinds of experiment of the present 
naturalists can explain, we doubt not that his treatise will 
contribute much to the distribution of an intellectual com- 
prehension and representation of natural science. This 
already is accomplishing much. If he desires to accomplish 
more, we w^ish, although with some doubt, our renowned 
countryman all possible success. 

To the real searcher after truth, we joyfully add our '' God 
speed you !" 



289 



CHBISTIANITY AND MENTAL CULTIVATION 
MUTUALLY SUPPOET EACH OTHEE. 



Speech delivered in the year 1826, at the Festival in celehration 
of the Thousandth Anniversary oj the Establishment of 
Christianity in Denmark, 

It might appear as an absurdity in the history of mankind, 
when viewed from a superficial point of view, that the recol- 
lections of great events are celebrated after a certain number 
of years have passed, although it is easy to perceive that the 
number of years, whether they are a hundred or a thousand, 
have no sort of natural connection with the events themselves 
— indeed, possess nothing to distinguish them from other 
numbers, except that they form marked points in the manner 
of computation which we have thought fit to adopt. But if 
it is allowed that, in the course of time, we seldom find an 
occasion of universal validity to renew the recollections of great 
events, we are compelled to seize upon an arbitrary one ; for 
it is natural in man to rejoice in the recollection of what is 
glorious, and to delight in this enjoyment in a still higher 
degree, if he rejoices with sympathizing companions : and is 
not this delight in the recollection of the Glorious, allied with 
the noblest feeling in man? does it not elevate his soul? does 
it not enlarge his vision ? does it not inspire him with noble 
resolutions ? People in general pass their time in occupations 
which far too much limit their views within the small extent 
of time and space most nearly surrounding them ; they are 
easily led to dream aw^ay life, as if there existed nothing 
greater beyond. It would certainly be wrong if we could 
remember no more in life than festivals of distant recur- 
rence. If the soul had not been from childhood imbued 
with noble germs of knowledge, if religion did not every week 
raise mankind from the narrowness of earth to the greatness 
of heaven, if Christian festivals did not occasionally arouse 

TJ 



290 CHRISTIANITY AND MENTAL CULTIVATION 

US still more forcibly, to elevate our souls towards the Eter- 
nal One, it would be folly to expect any effect from these 
great but scattered days of commemoration : but in connec- 
tion with the others, those days dedicated to more elevated 
thoughts, do not appear to me to be unimportant, especially 
in so far as they act upon our mind, by leading us to some- 
thing human which is connected with the Divine. 

By virtue of my academical office I have been called upon 
to-day to speak at a festival of this nature, and indeed at one 
which is allied with the noblest recollections and sentiments. 
A thousand years have passed, since, for the first time, a 
king of this country became a Christian. It is true he 
did not reign over the whole kingdom ; and his conversion 
to Christianity was not indeed immediately followed by 
the conversion of the whole nation ; but this event, which 
planted the first seed of Christianity among us, is never- 
theless most worthy of remembrance, and well adapted to 
fill our souls with gratitude towards the Eternal Wisdom . 
which has guided us into this path. All the chui'ches have 
commemorated this event as a rehgious festival ; the Univer- 
sity has solemnised it, by conferring the highest dignity in 
theology upon chosen, learned, and religious men, and we i 
have heard the meaning of this action discussed in the 
learned and eloquent discourse of the respected dean of the 
theological faculty. 

May I, who speak in the name of the whole University, 
be now permitted to show how Christianity promotes the 
development of science and of intellect, and, on the other 
side, how this is again favoured by them. Sometimes the , 
enemies of Christianity, and sometimes those of science and 
of enlightenment, have attempted to throw a shadow upon 
this truth. But with an inward conviction that the king- , 
dom of truth can never be at variance with itself, I believe i 
that we cannot be too zealous to prove its universal harmony, i 
in order that not only the honest, but the feeble friends ■ 
of virtue may not be seduced by the confusion of parties to 
quit the path which leads to their great end. I confess 
that I do not enter upon the discussion of my subject without 
that fear which is grounded in the feeling of what this 
honourable assembly might expect from me, and what I am 
able to bestow ; but if it is found that I do not arrive at the 
eloquence with which the subject deserves to be treated, 



MIJTTTALLY SUPPOKT EACH OTHER. 291 

I still rest on this, that I speak before an audience who unite 
not alone justice, but indulgence, with their knowledge, and 
whose love of truth will dispose them, from the commence- 
ment, to regard the subject of my speech with friendly interest. 

It is well known that science began to decline about the 
same period of time as Christianity was promulgated, and at 
length obtained the mastery. This has contributed much to 
the very erroneous idea, that Christianity has injured science. 
But impartial history points out to us, not merely that science 
began to decline before Christianity had perceptibly extended 
itself, but it also shows us the causes of this decline, namely, 
the unheard-of immorality pre vailing in the Roman states, 
which was a preparation for the inundation of the barbarians, 
and which also nearly extinguished the last spark of the light 
of science. That which was lost, was not however lost through 
Christianity, but what remained was through it preserved and 
restored; because that belonged to its nature, and in this re- 
spect no religion can be compared with ours : for although most 
religions owe their origin to one or more highly-gifted men, 
and look to the improvement of mankind as their aim, yet 
they are generally opposed to the intellectual development of 
the human race, whereas our holy religion is most inti- 
mately united with this development. 

While its principal dogmas have been separated so dis- 
tinctly by Christ himself, that they may be understood by the 
most simple, yet every one who has any desire for inquiry, 
feels himself called upon to study the collection of sacred 
books to which Christ and his apostles so frequently allude, 
and to read and diligently weigh what those highly-gifted men, 
who were permitted to draw their knowledge from the mouth 
of the great Teacher himself, or were otherwise inspired with 
a higher light, have written upon the divine doctrine. But 
in proportion as any one endeavours to become acquainted 
with this invaluable collection of writings, a whole world of 
knowledge is opened to him. Where can we anywhere find 
such a clear picture of the earliest conditions of the human 
race as there ? WTiat examples of wisdom and justice for 
our imitation, and what instances of folly and injustice set up 
as a warning to us ! What exalted images of the greatness of 
God, and what excellent proverbs of wisdom, are contained in 
this book ! WTiat a variety in style and in manner of com- 
munication ! Who could read this, and increase his know- 

V 2 



292 CHRISTIANITY AND MENTAL CULTIVATION 

ledge of divine things, without at the same time developing 
the powers of his mind? On this account, I cannot help 
believing that it was intended by Divine Wisdom, that all the 
talents of man should be developed through religion. Indeed, 
it even appears that this is the stipulation for the extension 
of the kingdom of God upon earth ; for we may wdth justice 
call this kingdom a kingdom of reason^ if we use the wordsi 
with their right signification, and if we do not confound that: 
reason which is the light of God, with the meaning which is, 
attached to it by the frequently uncertain wisdom of the 
world. 

The same must necessarily be deduced, not merely from 
the nature of the thing, but from the whole government of 
God, which is revealed in the distribution of Christianity. 
Although those who first became Christians were for the 
most part poor, simple men, for whose deliverance the divine 
Author of our religion laboured with such diligence, yet the 
period when the apostles and their first disciples endeavoured; 
to spread Christianity was not wholly barbarous. It was 
not addressed to a nation of ignorant barbarians ; it was to 
make its entrance into a world of refinement, among men, 
such as the Greeks and Romans, who were accustomed to 
reason, and among w^hom opponents soon arose, who must be 
combated with reasonable arguments. 

And it was not long before the sectarian spirit of the 
Greeks occasioned disputes about opinions, so that the 
Christian who had any capacity for inquiry was constantly! 
required to study the Holy Scriptures. 

Though the great precept, " Search the Scriptures," has 
been often abused, and has been employed by some to their 
own detriment, yet this wide-spread study of the principles 
of religion, which has no equal in any other religion, has 
powerfully contributed to maintain a spiritual life among 
Christians, and undoubtedly also possesses its great significa- 
tion in the government of God, in which Christianity has 
maintained and developed itself. If we were merely to judge 
by a superficial observation, we might be induced to believe 
that this mode of development could not have been the inten- 
tion of Providence ; that, indeed, it would have been far 
more salutary, if the communication of Christianity had not 
passed through such a perverted and corrupted race, by 
which it soon degenerated so greatly, that in many respects 



MUTUALLY SUPPOKT EACH OTHER. 293 

it became not unlike heathenism ; but since Christianity was 
most needed by those people who were in the lowest state of 
degradation, its doctrine, perhaps, found a readier acceptance, 
even in its less perfect condition, among the uneducated mass 
of mankind, who were called upon by Christianity to become 
ennobled and blessed. It appears, as I have already said from 
thi^ place, on another occasion, that among the laws which 
have been laid down in life by Eternal Wisdom, this one also 
exists, that where corruption of dispositions and of morals has 
gained the upper hand in a nation, it can only be remedied 
by a cruel destruction of everything that exists, in order that 
a new creation may spring from the chaos of wild forces. 

But when such a revolution impended over an empire 
which considered itself superior to all the others on the 
globe, and w^hich might call itself, in many respects, the 
protector of science, of what incalculable benefit must it not 
have been to the human race, that Christianity not alone 
contained the most excellent precepts, but also an unfading 
germ for intellectual improvement! While hitherto every- 
thing of this sort had been lost in the rude hands of the 
Asiatic hordes, the sacred precepts of Christianity were 
willingly accepted. If they were not perfectly understood, 
they still were sufficiently comprehended for their divine 
natin-e to be felt, and for the sacred books to be regarded 
with respect. 

Piety inspired those who were desirous of learning, with a 
wish to read these books, but they could not do this with- 
out, at the same time, learning much besides, and without, 
in many other respects, forming their understanding. Thus, 
reverence to Christianity, and the desire to have teachers in 
it, urged the barbarians to cultivate their knowledge and 
to adorn their minds. The cells of the monastery formed a 
refuge for science during the whole of the middle ages. Let 
it not be said that Christianity sometimes served as a veil, by 
which presumptuous book- worms sought to oppress the men 
of science who detected their errors, since it is sufficiently 
well known that at all times there have been men, who by 
their arrogance and vanity, under the pretence of zeal for the 
honour of God, and anxiety for the salvation of their souls, 
have persecuted both truth and science. But if such people 
find no opportunity of abusing the name of God, they 
are still sure of finding something to abuse, whether it may 



294 CHBISTIANITY AND MENTAL CULTIVATION 

be tlie name of the king, or the people, or morals, or what- 
ever they can bring into the service of their own unreason- 
able desires. The injury which such an abuse has produced, 
is still only to be regarded as small, in comparison with the 
benefit which the human race owes to Christianity, even if it 
is only considered as a means of civilization. 

How much Christianity has promoted the study of lan- 
guages, is manifest to every one. What would have induced 
the inhabitants of Europe to study the Hebrew language, 
which is so remote from their own, had they not been led 
to it by the books of the Old Testament ? And was not the 
New Testament the first incitement to the study of the Greek 
language in the West? Would the Latin language have 
been so familiarly known in Europe, if it had not reached us 
through Christianity, and grown up along with it in the 
writings of so many of its teachers? In an assembly of 
this sort, I have no fears that any one will argue that what 
I have laid so much stress upon is only a trifle, and that in 
place of valuing its possession, we would rather exchange it 
for something better. I am aware that such opinions are 
occasionally heard among the learned, and perhaps exagge- 
rated demands on the part of those learned in languages 
have sometimes given sufficient cause for opposition. But he 
who has to a certain extent made himself conversant with 
languages and science, must perceive that language is not 
merely a means to express our thoughts, but that it is a 
means to awaken thoughts, in order to reveal to us the 
workings of the human mind, that it may penetrate more 
deeply into the history of the human race, where language 
is spread over language, and its successive layers speak to 
the inquirer, as the strata of the earth disclose the forma- 
tion of the globe, and relate the history of times prior to 
the existence of man. If w^e wish to understand thoroughly 
the value of the study of languages, we must not stop at the 
consideration how far individuals among us might advance 
without these learned studies, but we should rather consider 
what would have become of the civilization of aU mankind, 
if it had taken a different direction. Language appears to be 
the first means of civilization, not alone to individual man, 
but to the whole human race. 

But how much our present languages owe to the ancient, 
not so much on account of the words we have derived from 



MUTUALLY SUPPORT EACH OTHER. 295 

them, of which, however, many, and ceitainly most im- 
portant ones, have become indispensable to iis, but much 
more by the inducement which these languages have given 
us to cultivate and enrich those of the present day, and 
to give them that flexibility which many have now attained. 
Even the familiarity with foreign languages of a modem 
date which is possessed by men of the present day, which 
leads to such cultivation, and to so many corrections in 
language, we principally owe to the knowledge that we have 
acquired from our youth upwards in the ancient languages, 
from which so many of those of our own day ai*e derived, 
and to our early practice in the study of all languages. 

Perhaps I shall be told, that the teachers of Christianity 
were for a long time unfavourably disposed to natural science, 
and considered it as witchcraft and the work of the devil. I 
might perhaps be satisfied to throw the blame of this on the 
darkness of those times, which only slowly retired before the 
Kght of Christianity ; but I believe, in truth, that this oppo- 
sition is more closely connected with the history of Christi- 
anity. It was not so much because Christian Europe was 
principally to receive Chemistry', Medicine, Astronomy, and 
Algebra, the great assistant to Xatin-al Science, from Maho- 
metan Ai'abians, but because these sciences were mixed up 
>vith dangerous error. The turn which the natural sciences 
of these times had taken with most people, the thirst for 
gold which alchemy had encom'aged, the aiTOgant intrusion 
into the counsels of the Almighty, which were supported by 
Astrology, the abuse of various secrets of nature by crimes, 
could not but be condemned by the Chi'istians. In addition 
to this, the knowledge of Christianity, even at that time, was 
not so pure, It was not yet understood how to distinguish 
between what was either added or misunderstood by man, 
and what was divine and of essential importance ; so that 
people feared that Christianity itself would be endangered, if 
Natural Science exposed the falsehood of certain opinions of 
the priesthood. 

On the other side, the study of philosophy was so consti- 
tuted, that it was feared that natm-al science, if it had 
obtained a certain solidity in such times, would have received 
a character of crudity and materialism which it has since 
not entirely escaped. 

Imbued with the conviction of a higher government of the 



296 CHEISTIANITY AND MENTAL CULTIVATION 

world, I can easily believe t^at it were as undesirable that 
natural science should have become the prevailing science of 
those times, as I feel convinced that it has been a happiness 
that it became the science of our own time, both because it 
can worthily satisfy a mature desire for knowledge, and 
because it forms a powerful barrier to the effeminate enthu- 
siasm into which the finite satiety of a one-sided education is 
so apt to fall. 

Perhaps I shall first be shown the opposition which many 
believe to exist between Christianity and enlightenment, 
and the opponent, will according to his mode of thought, 
find in enlightenment a proof against Christianity, or in 
Christianity a proof against enlightenment. In consequence 
of the limited powers of the human mind, truths often seem 
opposed to each other, and each therefore selects, according 
to his opinion, what appears to him most evident, in order 
to employ it against the other ; but in most cases the oppo- 
sition which is supposed to exist between Christianity and 
enlightenment, only refers to those opinions of men wliich 
were given out as Christianity; or thoughtless licentiousness, 
which people wished to consider enlightenment. 

We hear it so boldly asserted that the eighteenth century 
is distinguished both by its enlightenment and by its want 
of proper appreciation of Christianity, that if assurances 
were proofs, we should receive it as an undoubted fact ; but 
if we consider that most of these charges are in part di- 
rected against the priestly array of the Catholic Churchy 
partly against their human ordinances, and do not in other 
respects refer to the true interpretation of the Scriptures, we 
shall be compelled to be cautious in our judgment. If the 
bold enquirers of the eighteenth century have frequently 
been led astray, which in many cases is inexcusable, still 
we must also confess that they have removed many errors. 
When I hear certain proud and hard men of our time 
condemn those reasoners, in the name of Christianity I 
would ask them whether they are certain in what manner 
the eternal Father will weigh the errors of these men against 
that which caused them to err; their weaknesses against their 
honest endeavours. 

I have hitherto only represented the connection that sub- 
sists between the flourishing condition of general enlighten- . 



MUTUALLY SUPPORT EACH OTHER. 297 

ment, and the form and mode of communication of Chris- 
tianity; but this is not sufficient. We must also convince 
ourselves that this connection is deeply founded in the 
nature of the thing. Christianity aims at the highest pos- 
sible improvement of the human race ; it desires one kingdom 
of God upon earth, one shepherd and one fold. It desires to 
guide man to the attainment of this aim. But man is full of 
passions and desires which lead him ^vrong : if his understand- 
ing is darkened, it cannot bring him back into the right path. 
It is certainly true, that the precepts of Christ are so compre- 
hensible that a child may understand them, and whoever 
accepts them in honest faith and honest self-devotion, and 
makes them the essence of his life, is immediately elevated 
above the cloud which obscures the sight of most men. But 
does not experience show us that man is so blind to the good, 
that few will sacrifice the gratification of low, earthly passions, 
either for the inexhaustible love of Christ, or for the heavenly 
crown which shines at the end of our course. How much 
that excellent as well as distinct precept, " Revenge not your- 
selves," is made a mockery by the deeds of men; since in 
many cases he who does not revenge himself is considered 
as wanting in honour ! and have we yet been able to free 
ourselves from this prejudice ? Is it not part of the pro- 
gress of enlightenment, that this wild passion which Christ 
condemns, becomes more and more bridled, and that the 
divine wisdom which is contained in this precept is felt 
in still greater force ? I have not cited this example as a 
proof, but merely to call attention to the subject; for I 
do not believe that it is necessary to prove here, that the 
wild passions which Christianity admonishes us to restrain, 
are subdued by that enlightenment which guides to a reason- 
able end the same mental powers which otherwise would riot 
in passion. 

Christianity teaches us to regard earthly goods as small 
and contemptible in comparison with heavenly. No one 
will venture to deny this truth, and even the uncultivated 
man is not wholly beyond its influence ; but from the daily 
habit of seeing nothing but what most nearly surrounds him, 
the forcible impression of it is with him extinguished ; he 
is like the man who looked at his face in the glass, but after- 
wards went away and forgot how he looked: only the nearest 



298 CHRISTIANITY AND MENTAL CULTIVATION 

things appear to him great and important. Enlightenment 
also extends his view over earthly things, and accustoms him 
to perceive the insignificance and unimportance of what 
surrounds him in comparison with the events of this world. 
It no longer requires such a great mental leap to regard 
these also as nothing, in comparison with divine things. 
How much stronger must this feeling be with him, whom 
a still greater progress has brought to that point, that 
he can behold with distinctness the infinite perishable- 
ness of the whole material world, in which nothing is 
eternal except Reason, and the creative power revealed in 
it ! Christianity requires humility, but who can regard 
himself as great, when the vast mirror of the world shows 
our littleness ? Who must not feel his spiritual poverty, 
when he visibly traces the infinitely rich Spirit which is 
revealed in nature? Perhaps it will be said that philoso- 
phers are but too rarely imbued with this doctrine, and 
I willingly confess that they as often forget the saying of 
philosophy, "Know thyself," as the priests of Christ do 
the other, "My kingdom is not of this world." Man is 
slow in learning what humbles his pride ; but if the king- 
dom of God is to be more and more spread upon earth, the 
human race must undergo a long training. Christ is our 
great master, but he will not compel us ; he desires that, led 
by his Spirit, we should ourselves develop our powers. That 
kingdom of God which ought to reign upon earth, is a living 
acknowledgment of the will of God, that is, of divine reason; 
of which our human reason is an image, although only an 
infinitely feeble one. Enlightenment is essentially requisite 
for this, but not as a foreign aid which comes to Christianity 
from without, but as a development of the capacities of men 
which is promoted and urged forward by Christianity itself, 
and by that government of God which is revealed in the dis- 
tribution of Christianity. It is therefore a deep and just 
feeling, which has caused the great schemes of science 
throughout Europe to be regarded as in connection with 
Heligion, to whose extension the endeavours of men of 
science wiU always revert, although in the midst of earthly 
objects they may appear to move free and unconcerned about 
heavenly things. 

In this sense the annual festival at the Universitv, which 



MUTUALLY SUPPOET EACH OTKEE. 299 

we solemnize to-day, may be united, humbly indeed, though 
not imsuitably, with the great Chi'istian festival ; but in such 
a manner that what I have to say may be regai'ded as a 
separate speech, in which my words will be presented short 
and without ornament, not to elevate the great festival, 
but to complete the day's work. 



300 



OBSERVATIONS ON THE HISTORY OP 
CHEMISTRY. 

A LECTURE. 



When, at the commencement of the Winter Course of 1805 and 
1806, 1 had to deliver some Lectures on Chemistry, to an audience among 
whom there were few connoisseurs, I gave a general survey of the latest 
changes in Science in the two first lectures ; and, in a third, I endeavoured 
to destroy some prejudices which might prove an obstacle to me. This 
last lecture I afterwards put on paper, to enable me to offer it to the 
public. It is printed in the papers of the Scandinavian Society, for 1809, 
and a German translation has appeared in Gehlen's Journal for Chemistry 
and Physic, vol. iii, Berlin, 1807. This lecture, delivered more than 
forty-four years ago, bears a strong character of youth, which, however, 
I had no desire to obliterate. I have, in general, made no improvements, 
except by the omission of a few passages, which was necessary for the 
sake of accuracy, as it would have otherwise caused confusion in the minds 
of most readers. Once I replaced the omission by a short representation 
of its sense. In a few passages I have inserted some short remarks, but 
these may be distinguished, as they are inclosed within brackets. 



The various Changes in Chemistry, 

It is an old complaint, and has been often repeated, that 
there is a want of unanimity in the kingdom of scieDce. 
Exactly where we might expect uninterrupted peace, and a 
unanimous endeavour towards one object, a perpetual war is 
established by constant changing revolutions. Who does 
not know how many opportunities this disagreement has 
afforded for the distrust of the timid, the laughter of the 
scorner, and for declamations on the uncertainty of himian 
knowledge to the enemies of science ? 

What I mentioned in my last lecture with respect to the 



THE HISTOKY OF CHEMISTRY. 301 

antiphlogistic theory (namely, as one embracing all the 
chemical phenomena together,)*' must again give rise to the 
same complaint. We shall once more present a new theory, 
in exchange for one that was made but a few years ago with 
the approbation of nearly all the enhghtened world, and 
which was not, indeed, established without a hard strug- 
gle, in which the grounds on both sides were frequently 
weighed and re-examined. Nor was it in the world of ideas, 
where Reason might perhaps, have stumbled in its own 
immeasurable depths, that this struggle was carried on ; but 
within a circle where all was brought before the old and 
sure test of experience, by which, therefore, everything 
attained a much greater degree of certainty. This is the 
theory which must be renounced. As this system falls to 
pieces, so have many, in every science, and they have often 
been forced to yield to others entirely opposed to them. 
Where is the limit to these changes ? 

Is it probable that we now possess the true theory, which 
can stand unshaken against all the attacks of future times ? 
We have no more probability for this than our predecessors 
had for the correctness of their ideas, which they held to be 
as true and certain as we now hold ours to be. We there- 
fore must consider it possible that we may equally err. On 
this account many experienced men have rejected all theories, 
and considered them as beneath their notice. They ask 
whether it is probable, or whether it can be more than a 
pleasing dream, that reason should ever reach that unanimity 
which in the efforts of so many centmies, and the meditations 
of so many great minds, it has not hitherto attained. If we 
follow their views, then there would only exist one truth, the 
Reality which has surrounded us firmly and constantly amidst 
so many changes, and which every moment extorts fresh 
evidence from our senses. Theories might perhaps enable us 
to separate our knowledge into certain groups, where we may 
more easily find it again ; they might, perhaps, be of some 
use in exercising that acuteness of youth, which is to be 
employed in a practical career ; but that so many contradic- 

* It has not escaped my notice, that the antiphlogistic theory is often 
mentioned as if it were unrefuied, and in a certain sense this is correct, 
so far as the circle of experiences is only alluded to, which it embraced, 
and whose harmonious connection it exhibited ; but it no longer exists as 
a complete chemical theory, as every one will now readily grant. 



302 OBSERVATIONS ON 

tions should ever contain one unity and truth, or furnisii an 
actual insight, can in no wise be admitted. 

A more noble but weaker nature justly adds to this a pain- 
ful consideration. The whole value of man lies in Reason : if 
the greatest efforts which it has made have only produced a 
mere vision, then man is the most imperfect and unhappy of 
all creatures, for he has abused the faculties which were 
bestowed on him by natm-e for his preservation, and has by 
that means sought to tear himself away from the reality, of 
which, nevertheless, he only forms a part; a revolt which, 
carried out in all possible directions, is however punished by 
Nature with perpetual restlessness, and innumerable weak- 
nesses unknown to other creatures. All are drawn into an 
unhappy vortex of follies, but he who perceives it is doubly 
unhappy, for he cannot resist it ; he is only one among his 
race, which for thousands of years has laboured to withdraw 
him from Nature. Even suppose that he felt sufficient 
strength to approach it on the one side, he is yet compelled 
to tear himself from it on the other. Thus man hastens with 
increasing velocity towards his downfall ; and, even should 
this be the fate of the whole globe, over which, in his savage 
state, he has made himself master, still he alone has the 
misfortune to foresee it. 

The rash youth pursues another path ; he boldly cuts the 
knot. He truly says that cowardice leads to despair. Who 
taught you that truth, the greatest of all treasures, was to be 
gained without an effort? Are you accustomed to count 
the voices, that you may know what is right? Will you 
not then be obliged to pronounce the majority unwise ? 
Transfer this rule to those who pretend to be philosophers. 
If there have been controverted opinions, one of them never- 
theless must have been the correct one. Can you wonder 
that these opinions have altered, since all have not striven 
with equal zeal, with equal force, with equal love of truth, after 
the great end in view ? Besides, if the truth has not been dis- 
covered, it still may be discovered ; there is, indeed, a whole 
eternity still before us. The power which tore you away 
from that which you call the reality, must surely be stronger 
than this reality itself. It can, it must lead us one day into 
the kingdom of truth, and even the endeavour to reach this 
is glorious ; our powers are exercised, our intellectual life is 
preserved, oui* mind tranquillized by the cheering prospect 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTEY. 303 

that our whole race is in progress to something higher, to 
something better. Is not this a sufficient reward for the 
small labour we undergo ? Thus, while we strive after una- 
nimity, a new struggle arises, and we gladly pursue it, with 
the joyful prospect of future repose. We soon, however, 
remark, that man has but just commenced to wander in the 
path of science. He views himself only as a rational being, and 
he is right ; but if he looks back on his individuality, and 
its accompanying restrictions — if he remembers the host of 
reflecting men who have fallen into error — if, weary with the 
battle of life, he reflects for a moment. Those men were as 
convinced as you, yet they erred ; are you stronger ? Might 
you not, perhaps, also have been involved in error without 
your previous knowledge? he will then, ere long, not in- 
deed mistrust reason, but himself. He will be compelled to 
extend this doubt to all other human individuals, and conse- 
quently to his whole species, and we see him now at the same 
spot from which his despair originated. 

But I see those who have been distinguished in the history 
of the human mind, quietly looking down on this confusion. 
They say to us, ^' We have sacrificed more time and greater 
powers than our brethren, to fathom the depths of nature and 
of reason. We only encountered obscurity and doubt, part 
of the way ; the deeper we penetrated, all became light and 
unity before us. Each of us has learned from his predeces- 
sors ; and has been the teacher of his successors, not merely 
by collecting a much greater amount of knowledge, but also 
by a deeper search into the order of things. And have we 
not confirmed our truthfulness by this ; — that we have trans- 
mitted to you laws by which you may perceive and calculate 
much which no eye had previously beheld. Give us a proof 
for your incredulity ! Do not allow yourself to be deluded 
by the semblance of disagreement. The period of time, the 
country, the character of each man, has borne with it its 
particular tendency, and has given his works their peculiar 
stamp. We are all, however, united by a secret bond. Search 
zealously the history of the sciences, and you will there meet 
with repose where before you only found doubt and discon- 
tent." 

We will follow this voice, for it is the voice of truth. 
By a closer consideration of this struggle, which has disturbed 
our repose, we shall discover the purest harmony, the most 



304 OBSEKVATIONS ON 

complete rest and certainty. In fact, it would indeed be an 
object worthy of the reflecting man, to search for that inner 
unity in all the sciences ; but a task of such extent would 
lead us now too far from our object. We must be content 
to pursue the course of the development of the one single 
science for whose explanation these lectures are intended. 

As the history of every science seems only to offer to the 
superficial eye a chaos of contradictions, and a torrent of 
conflicting forces, it is thus also with the history of che- 
mistry. From the time when the scattered experience 
which contained the earliest germs of this science were first 
united into one whole, we find a constant progression and 
retrogression, but no continued advance. It was at first con- 
cealed in the middle ages by an impenetrable veil of mys- 
ticism, and we can easily imagine that, at that time, there 
must have been as many different opinions, as there were 
enthusiasts. To produce the most precious metal which is 
presented by nature, to discover one universal solvent, to 
obtain for the human race an infallible cure in every kind of 
disease, were the problems of science which were endeavoured 
to be solved in a variety of ways. Yet nearly every one was 
of opinion, that there lay a deep-rooted resemblance, hidden 
from the uninitiated eye, between even the most distant 
objects in nature, — that this could only be discovered by a 
peculiar gift, and might be employed to fulfil the great end 
which they had set before them. Thus the imaginary cha- 
racters of the planets were sought for in metals, and the works 
of chemistry were guided by astrological combinations. The 
correctness of this mode of representation was the more easily 
believed in, as precisely the same number of planets as 
metals were then known. What would they now say in 
•defence of this opinion, if a more enlightened astronomy 
showed them, that the sun was no planet, and the moon was 
Si mere satellite, similar to many others which we discover by 
the aid of the telescope ? What would they think, if they 
now learned to distinguish by a more skilful chemistry, nearly 
thirty metals, (that was the number in 1807, but now they 
number more than forty,) and in addition to this, if they saw 
the probability, bordering on certainty, that there are yet 
many more to be discovered? Yet who would now give 
himself the trouble to refute opinions which are rejected by 
all the rational world, although in those dark times they were 



THE HISTOEY OF CHEMISTHY. 305 

countenanced by the most profound thinkers, and found protec- 
tors in the most powerful princes. We must be content to bear 
in mind, that chemistry was to them no more than the produc- 
tion of the metals, and her natural forces no more than mysti- 
cal similarities of character. This, I say, is sufficient to show 
how little it resembled our more comprehensive chemistry, 
liow opposed it was to our present endeavoui's after a more 
distinct and penetrating science. But we can by no means 
be pacified by attempting to console ourselves with the reflec- 
tion, that that great period was a night full of fantastic 
dreams, which is now happily past. If the men of those 
days were able to commit such grave errors, who will answer 
for us that we shall not just as much err on the opposite 
path, and, from a mistaken endeavour to understand things, 
overlook that which constitutes Essence, with its still incom- 
prehensible existence, in the whole of Infinite Nature r Or 
can we venture, on historical grounds, to regard that period 
as one of unimportance, at a time when many highly gifted 
minds are once more bringing to light several of its dogmas. 

We will, however, turn our eyes for a little w^hile from this 
time and age, so different from our own, and not even dwell 
on the period of fermentation which lay between it and more 
modern times ; that it was a period of contradiction and 
struggle, need not astonish us. We will direct our whole 
attention to that period of time w^hen the causes of natural 
events were placed in conceivable natural forces, and when 
there was a desire to comprehend, by means of experiment, 
each of these events in their utmost possible purity. At this 
period, indeed, all acknowledge as their judge one and the 
same reason; we might, therefore, expect more unanimity 
to have existed, but no expectation can be less fulfilled. To 
enumerate how many opinions arose and vanished during 
this period, and which of these again became the prevailing 
one, would furnish materials for a book, and would neces- 
sarily weary the attention, even were it possible to comprise 
them within the narrow compass of a lecture. We will, 
therefore, now only turn to a few of the chief points. 

The knowledge of chemistry that had been acquired had 
begun to be arranged ; and a combustible body, called phlo- 
giston, was imagined, which was said to be contained in 
all substances. Each combustible body was therefore com- 
posite. Combustion was thus decomposition. Metals were 

X 



306 OESERYATlOIvS 03>f 

composed of an elementary earth and phlogiston. Those 
bodies which by combustion yield an acid, must necessarily 
contain this acid as one of their constituents united with the 
combustible substance. Innumerable phenomena were ex- 
plained by this doctrine, and it was believed that in it had 
been discovered the key to the secret laboratories of nature. 
Nevertheless, people were far from unanimous as to the 
nature of this combustible matter; sometimes it was held to 
be sulphur, sometimes a fine earth, sometimes a portion of 
light ; and a property was at length bestowed upon it, at 
variance with all other bodies, namely, that it had the power 
of annihilating gravity. 

When it was believed that this doctrine had been brought 
nearly to a state of perfection, it was overthrown by another, 
so opposed to it, that it even received its name from this oppo- 
sition. By denying the existence of the combustible sub- 
stance, the antiphlogistic theory altered the entire previous 
mode of conception. Combustion was now no longer decom- 
position, but, on the contrary, composition — a combination with 
oxygen. This element was held to be contained in acids, 
and it was inherent to their nature to be compounds ; whereas, 
the matter which yields an acid by combustion might be a 
simple body. The arguments for the compound nature of . 
the metals thus failed, and they were considered elementary : 
substances. Water, which by the former theory e was an 
element, now became a compound. In short, everything was 
reversed, and one was tempted to believe that no stone of 
the old building would remain upon another. 

Yet hardly had the struggle ended about these two systems 
when a new struggle arose, which began by denying that 
water was a compound. This doctrine has never been com- 
pleted; but so much is certain, that its whole effort termi- 
nates in an endeavour to overturn the antiphlogistic doctrine, 
which seemed to be so firmly established. Indeed, it even 
goes beyond this, since it seeks to establish entirely new 
points of vision for the whole of chemistry, by which nothing 
of that which we have hitherto called composition and sepa- 
ration, shall be considered so in future. All that we had 
hitherto learned of chemical affinity, that which the phlogi- 
cians and antiphlogicians had agreed in common, is now to 
be considered as invalid. 

Although this view has not been maintained, still it 



\ 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTRY. 307 

remains certain that the discoveries of electro-chemistry 
have altered the views of chemicel effects in an important 
mamier. 

Every theory in Science prevailing throughout a certain 'period^ 
contains actual Scientific Truth, though frequently muck 
obscured. 

We will now attempt to throw some light on the chaos, 
which at first sight exhibits nothing but a crude mixture of 
the remains of so many periods of time. However, to faci- 
litate your view I will determine beforehand the course of 
the research which I think of laying before you. I will, 
namely, first show you that all those who have had some 
insight into science, whatever theory they may have embraced, 
have yet been in possession of a great and profound truth. 
It will at once be evident by this research that the course 
of this science has been an actual development. I hope, 
further, to be able to point out to you that this development 
has followed necessary laws. A nearer consideration will 
finally, convince us of the beneficial nature of these laws. • 

I am quite aware of the discursive nature of the research 
into which I have led you, and I am also willing to confess 
that in the short space of a verbal lecture it cannot be carried 
to any considerable degree of perfection ; but I yet think that 
I may be able so to touch on the principal points, that each 
of you may yourselves be enabled to make an extensive 
application of it. 

The mystical tendency of the middle ages is so opposed to 
our present efforts in pursuit of perfect clearness, that it 
might easily appear impossible that they could both form 
constituents of one truth. To deny their antithesis would be 
opposed to manifest truth; but yet there is no antithesis 
which has not something in common. Perhaps the strongest 
antithesis might have its foundation in the one-sidedness of 
both periods, and they might, on the other hand, show them- 
selves to agree in much where we had not suspected it. 
,Each endeavour after an insight into nature tends to bring 
:he separated phenomena under common points of view ; to 
iiscover the laws by which all must be guided ; — in short, to 
oring a unity of reason into nature. This endeavom-, at least, 
vas common both to the mystic period and to our own. 

, X 2 



308 OBSEEYATIONS ON 

Amidst the errors of alchemy, the one which appeared most 
strongly was, that metals bore an analogy with the planets. 
It would be folly to deny that this idea led to opinions and 
labours utterly opposed to nature ; but yet it is not impossible 
that it contained a feeble anticipation of truth. We now 
have grounds to assume that the whole solar system is pro- 
duced in accordance with intimately connected laws, and 
that the heavenly bodies, the sun, the planets, the moon, and 
comets, are, as it were, resting-points in this development ; 
it is not now impossible that the metals, and other substances 
allied to them, might be similar resting-points in the develop- 
ment of the earth, and that there might exist a similarity in 
the laws by which both developments have taken place. Yet 
we will not conceal from ourselves that we here build suppo- 
sitions on suppositions, and that we do not lay much weight 
on this supposed possibility. 

But even without referring to this, that former period 
has been beneficial to science. Not to mention the number 
of separate discoveries which we owe to science, it has also 
given us different connected series of allied matter ; for in- 
stance, mineral acids, as well as the commencement of our 
knowledge of alkalinity. The so-called oxidation of the metals, 
and the different modes by which it is usually treated, were 
likewise discovered by the chemists of that period. They 
even contributed something to the chemical knowledge of the 
atmosphere, since they showed that there exist some kinds 
of gas different from those which surround our earth. 

We accordingly see that the mystic period did not act with- 
out a plan and without result. We may still more easily be 
led to this conviction by the phlogistic period. It is, indeed, 
true that the founder and the adherents to this theory explained 
everything from one element, whose existence they assumed 
though they could not prove it ; but yet their ideas of the 
nature of combustion were not so absolutely mistaken as 
might have been supposed from the falsity of such a pre- , 
supposition. The thought that combustion was the central , 
point of all chemical effects, betrayed an unusually pro- 
found view into nature ; for to embrace such a thought it 
was not sufficient to regard with attention the origin of fire , 
and the brilliance of flame, it was also necessary to perceive 
that nature often produces effects similar to combustion by 
other means than fire, and to discover that there was never- 



THE HISTOKY OF CHEMISTEY. 309 

theless one force in common, in all these apparently different 
effects. It requires a very discriminating and bold spirit to 
discover combustion where no flame, frequently not even 
warmth, proclaims its existence. And to distinguish combus- 
tion even in the midst of a fluid body, or, what is still more, 
to discover a decided similarity between the breath and 
flame, demands indeed a preparation of centuries. 

After such a great and yet deeply penetrating view, it was 
first possible to arrange bodies in a series according to their 
combustibility, for it was now known in what combustibility 
consisted. By means of this series, the natural law was 
determined that the more combustible, when in a state of 
combustion, can restore the less combustible to its first con- 
dition. It was also perceived that a body lost its combus- 
tibility in the same degree as it became burnt; and thus that 
great law was determined, which is as widely comprehensive 
as simple to be understood, that combustion and reduction are 
two antagonistic processes which pervade the whole of nature. 
Such great ideas, the fi'uit produced by the efforts of a century, 
are comprised in these few words. But whoever is acquainted 
with natui'c, knows what these words signify. I wish that 
you may form a clear idea of them to yourselves. Who 
does not know the part that the metals play in the history of 
the human race ? They perform a no less important part in 
the history of the earth. They are contained in stones 
and crystals, they penetrate mountains, they form the basis 
of enormous masses, and they appear everywhere in the 
most variable forms. Nevertheless the theory of combustion 
embraces them in a nearly unlimited universality. To whom 
is it not evident that the circulation of the blood is the chief 
spring of animated nature ? ^Vho does not know that respi- 
ration is one of the elements in that great chain of effects ? 
But has not the phlogistic doctrine adopted this r Why 
bring forward so many examples ? None of you are entirely 
ignorant of the phlogistic doctrine ; you will therefore your- 
selves discover them in abundance. 

We shall not be inclined to reproach Stahl and his succes- 
sors, because they assumed a common principle to exist 
in all combustible materials. The antiphlogicians them- 
selves assume this, while they attribute to all combustible 
bodies a chemical attraction to oxygen. The error of the 
phlogicians can therefore only consist in this, that they 



310 OBSEKYATIONS OK 

assumed a material basis of combustion ; in which assuredly 
they were wrong. But we must consider that adherence to 
the material formed the character of the period in which they 
lived, from which only very few chemists of the present day 
have disengaged themselves. Phlogiston remained nothing but 
a cipher, an X by which they denoted the unknown basis of 
combustion. Even should they have added something to this 
sign, by which it has lost some of its purity, we must yet 
confess that within certain limits we might calculate by it 
with precision. Besides, we are far removed from considering 
the doctrine of combustion as the completion of the science : 
we only consider ourselves justified to assert, that it con- 
tained a correct and enlarged view, a perception of a great 
law of nature. But the perfect clearness even of this per- 
ception is obscured by each arbitrary assumption. There 
always exists a certain point where such an assumption 
essentially interferes, and from this point, errors are dis- 
tributed over everything else. Such is also the case in the 
phlogistic doctrine. Hypothesis blinded them to that which 
nature revealed. Hence they overlooked the real action of 
the atmosphere in combustion. 

It was reserved for Lavoisier to discover this, and to found 
a new system, which was given out as more original than in 
fact it was : for the fundamental idea of the earlier system ' 
was also the basis of the new, and could not possibly be 
rejected : but that combustion is a composition, and not a 
separation, that all bodies in combustion receive oxygen, that 
this oxygen constitutes a common constituent of many acids, 
are some of the peculiarities of the antiphlogistic system. 
The naturalist by these discoveries is first enabled to specify, 
and to calculate beforehand, not only superficially, but with 
the greatest nicety, the products of the various effects which 
we must now range in the class of combustions. The anti- ' 
phlogistic doctrine was, however, first completed by the dis- 
covery of the constituents of water. That the most com- 
bustible of all substances exists in water, combined with that 
which is the condition of all combustion, is a discovery of 
whose importance no one can doubt, who for a moment 
recalls to his remembrance the variety of bodies which either 
the elements of water receive separately in order to unite, or 
united in order to separate. What an infinite number is thus 
offered to our contemplation ! 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTET. 311 

You easily perceive that the antiphlogistic STstem, in spite 
of its name, is still a continuation of the phlogistic. That 
they are opposed to one another, proves nothing to the con- 
trary, for you have yourselves seen that it was only in one 
point, and not in all. We therefore easily made the transi- 
tion from the one to the other. 

The system which proceeds from the latest experiments 
pursues a path which differs still more widely from that last 
mentioned. It even originates from a research into an 
entirely different province. It was from the researches into 
electricity, that a new light was thrown on chemistry. The 
power which already in ancient times was discovered in 
amber, after it had been submitted to friction, was by degrees 
observed to exist in many other bodies, and at length the 
knowledge was arrived at, that it must exist in all natural 
bodies. The fundamental laws of this power were discovered 
by the deep researches of Franklin. Nearly all the older 
instruments for the investio^ation of electricity were im- 
proved, and now that we were guided by fixed principles, 
a number of new ones were discovered. Electricity was 
detected where formerly it was hardly supposed to exist, and 
at length it was found, in various ways, that this power was 
excited even when bodies came into contact with one 
another. We gratefully remember the services of Yolta in 
this respect. It was at the same time discovered that the 
contact of bodies altered their chemical forces, and Hitter's 
prophetic glance already discerned in these experiments the 
connection between electricity and chemistry. Volta went 
still farther, and found that a combination of several parts 
produced an increased action, and now it was gCDerally 
admitted that a power of chemical action existed in electri- 
city. Although most people continued to view it only as a 
one-sided chemical means of action, not as the exponent of a 
universal force in nature, yet all did not limit their views to 
a mere name. Hitter showed that the chemical changes 
in water depended on an electric distribution of force, and 
consequently viewed the whole doctrine of the composition of 
water from another side. But not alone the doctrine of the 
composition of water, but the whole chemical theory received 
a new direction by this change. It has been shown by various 
discoveries, whose completion we owe to Hitter, that all bodies 
having the property to evolve electricity, constitute a series. 



312 OBSERVATIONS ON 

Tlic first member in this series, placed in reciprocal relation 
^vith other bodies, produces positive electricity; the second 
receives indeed negative electricity with the first, but positive 
with all the remainder ; and so on to the last, which receives 
negative electricity with all other bodies. Among those 
bodies, which taken as a whole, stand in the same relation, we 
find that this series runs parallel with combustibility ; so that 
the positive are at once the most combustible, the negative, 
on the contrary, the least combustible bodies. 

The so-called decomposition of water is an electric charge 
of this description, in which the only remarkable circum- 
stance is, that the inequalities produced are so great, and 
that they are distinctly visible to our eyes. The positive 
pole of water is the hydrogen, its negative pole the oxygen. 
United, they again remove the opposite forces, and form 
water. Water is that body in which the great equiKbrium 
of all forces takes place ; hydrogen is the most combustible 
of all bodies, oxygen the least combustible, and itself the 
condition of all combustion. 

Thus a new theory of combustion is presented to us. The 
combustion of hydrogen is only a union of the positive which 
it contained, with the negative of the oxyo^en. Flame is really 
an uninterruptedly renewed electric spark, or speaking more ' 
correctly, light and warmth are produced because these effects 
have the same elementary actions as electricity. But that 
which belongs to the combustion of hydrogen equally be- 
longs to every combustion, since every combustible body is 
combustible by the positive which it contains, and burns 
when this becomes united with the negative. In this manner 
we assume with the phlogicians an inner principle of com- 
bustion, and with the antiphlogicians an outer one ; but we 
differ from them so far that w^e do not accept these as 
material. 

We must necessarily feel in this, that our whole mode of ' 
representation sustains an essential alteration. Formerly we :' 
everywhere assumed actual combinations and separations 
where two different bodies become united into one ; but we 
now assume, on the contrary, that one distribution of force 
equalizes them both. This does not belong only to combus- 
tion, but also to the reciprocal effect between acids and 
alkalis. We shall merely notice in the course of this lecture, 
that acidity and alkalinity depend upon a certain form of 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTRY. 313 

existence of the t^yo fundamental forces which have been 
frequently mentioned, and that thus those various natural 
events which chemists ascribe to neutralizations, may be also 
viewed as indifferences. 

[That composed bodies were mere conditions of polarization 
of one element, was a view which I soon abandoned ; but it 
is easy to perceive that the inner connexion of the electro- 
chemical view which has been offered is not thence disturbed. 
Some propositions are also here presented with too great a 
tendency to universality; but when this is rectified, the prin- 
cipal view remains correct, as is now sufficiently recognized.] 

It cannot have escaped your attention, in all these consider- 
ations, that the point of view for all natural events is certainly 
changed, but yet that the connexion which had at one time 
been found between great series of natural events, will not 
be destroyed in order to form a new one. That combusti- 
bility not merely consists in yielding flames under certain 
circumstances, that combustion has its antithesis in another 
process, which we call reduction ; that a reciprocal action 
between oxygen (or any other negative body) and the com- 
bustible body belongs to combustion ; that water can be 
turned into hydrogen and oxygen, as these again into water ; 
continue to remain discoveries of the greatest importance, 
which we all employ, but which we at the same time bring 
under the necessity of a higher law. 



That there is a true course of development in the theories 
ivhich have followed one another^ and which have been suc- 
cessively solved. 

The most difficult task in our undertaking, namely, to 
exhibit an eternal truth in the variety of contradictions w^hich 
are offered by the history of science to the unpractised eye, 
is now, I hope, carried out as far as our limited time permits. 
The same research places clearly before our eyes, that the 
course of science has been a development, and an actual 
progress. But I will add a few remarks with reference 
to this. 

Science has gradually gained, not merely by theory having 
attained a greater perfection, but also with respect to the 
extent which it embraces. In the middle ages, no other 



314 OBSERVATION'S ON 

chemistry was known than that of metals, and this is very 
natural, because these bodies, after they have imdergone the 
most various changes in their aspects, most easily resume 
their previous form, so that we first receive from them a 
connected experience. 

The phlogistic theory already embraced a far larger number 
of objects within its limits ; such as fermentation, respiration, 
fire, &c. Although the chemistry of the middle ages touched 
on all these subjects, it yet never truly assimilated them into 
its mass. The antiphlogistic theory does not embrace so 
much more than the phlogistic, yet it cannot be denied that 
it was the first to accept the doctrine of the gases as one of 
its fundamental constituents. The new theory, which we 
might name the dynamic, enlarges, on the other hand, the 
extent of chemistry far beyond its former limits. Electricity, 
magnetism, and galvanism now also belong to chemistry, as it 
appears that the very same fundamental forces which produce 
this effect, produce chemical effects in another form. We 
have found that electricity, particularly in that form in which 
it appears in galvanism, is able to produce the extremes of 
all sensational perceptions : in the organ of taste, acidity, and 
alkalinity; a similar contrast in the organ of smell; to the 
eye, the two most extreme prismatic colours ; the higher and 
the deeper tones to the ear ; in the feelings, an alternation of 
heat and enlargement or contraction ; in the nerves, altered 
irritability. The same effects are produced, by different 
matters, in relation to the fimdamental power which reigns 
in them. Thus the doctrine of the perceptions of the senses 
may be drawn into experimental physics. 

However much chemistry has extended its boundaries, it 
has gained no less in inward connexion and solidity. The so- 
called chemical affinities or attractions, the qualitates occultce^ 
on which combustion, as well as all the other chemical effects, 
depended, now resolve themselves into forces, to which we 
are able to give free play by experiment, and thence to 
obtain some knowledge of them. The antithesis between the 
process of combustion and the process of reduction, now 
becomes far more comprehensible, while we perceive that 
they depend on a preponderance of two opposite forces. 
That which we before named neutralization, is no longer a 
secret to us, as we know that it depends on the equilibrium 
of exactly these opposite forces, only under a different form. 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTRY. 315 

I feel that while speaking so much of the recent progress 
that has been made, I have rather to fear your distrust, than 
your failure in attention from the apparent insignificance of 
the subject. I hope, however, that you will keep in view, that 
every great epoch in history has been marked by discoveries 
which, to the eye which is dazzled by novelty, appear to 
swaUow up all the preceding ones. I may also venture to 
suppose that it has not escaped your attention, that science 
must advance with continually increasing velocity, if there is 
no external interruption ; for who is not aware that with 
each new discovery the means to make others are augmented 
^-that with the rise of science, the number of its promoters 
increases, and thence their zeal is heightened ? If this asser- 
tion of the growth of science required more explanation, it 
might easily be foimd, even by a mere superficial view of the 
history of science. The heaviest, hardest, and most un- 
changing of all bodies, if I may so express myself, the most 
material matter, was the first object of its research. The 
phlogistic theory still clung to the solid mass ; yet it assumed 
the existence of a fine substance, which many beKeved was 
imperceptible to our senses. 

I hope that these few observations will be sufficient to 
convince you that the changes in chemistry did not consist in 
a floating hither or thither without an object between two 
opposite points ; but that its history is a true development 
from its first germ to a perfect organization, which continues 
daily to push out new branches, and will not cease to bear 
new fruit, so long as inexhaustible nature, in which it is 
rooted, supplies it with fresh sap for its nourishment. 



The Development of Science oheys certain Laws. 

That this course of development was not ordered by 
chance, but that it followed necessary laws, is already proved 
in the former part of our investigation. I may, therefore, be 
so much the more brief in the development of this subject. 
It belongs wholly to the nature of the case that one piece of 
knowledge always contains the germ of another, which must 
be sufficient to cause philosophers to admit that the course 
of development is guided by necessary laws ; but as we are 
now anxious to meet doubts which are caused by an uncertain 



S16 OBSEKYATIONS ON 

experience, we must submit the different parts to a more nar- 
row investigation, that allows a more complete experience to 
destroy the terrifying dreams caused by imperfect knowledge. 

Chemistry has grown up on the foundation of experience. 
Innumerable chemical phenomena surrounded mankind, under 
such varied forms, that even the most acute eye could not 
at once discover the inner connection ; a similarity began to 
be discovered between some of these phenomena and between 
certain bodies which had much in common with one another. 
But to unite under one point of view all chemical natural 
■events, such as the dissolution of salt, fermentation, combus- 
tion, the oxidation of metals, respiration, — different as they 
are from one another, — ^has been alone rendered possible by 
innumerable experiments, collected in a course of centuries. 
It was naturally first necessary to discover fixed laws in the 
bodies which were least disturbed by chemical forces. This 
property is possessed by metals. They indeed alter their form 
when submitted to those means of action which with more 
or less violence, are able to cause combustion ; but they also 
very easily regain their former lustre and connection, and 
once more issue from their ashes. It is therefore natural that 
the first trace of a chemical theory developed itself from 
metals. To produce metals, and especially the most precious 
among them, was then the great problem of chemistry. To 
decompose these heretofore indestructible bodies was neces- 
sarily most intimately connected with this. If this problem 
had really been solved, then free action would have been given 
to the most secret forces of nature, and we should have also 
possessed a means to withstand all disease. We must confess 
there was a full appreciation of the end towards which their 
efforts must necessarily tend, if they were to reach fulfilment. 

If they did not immediately obtain a philosophically clear 
consciousness of all that was requisite to reach the great end 
they had set to this science, namely, to become acquainted 
with all the rest of nature, they yet felt the necessity to in- 
clude innumerable non-metallic substances in their research. 
In this manner they gradually laid the foundation for the 
-extension of chemistry, and ended with the knowledge that 
the combinations and separations of all bodies were objects 
of the same science as that of metals. They were espe- 
cially obliged to endeavour more and more to discover the 
laws by which metals, under certain circumstances, lose their 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTRY. 317 

lustre and their metallic nature, and under others again 
recover them ; that is, they were compelled at last, in their 
experiments on metals, to find a portion of the theory of 
combustion. It was in this way also that the phlogistic 
theory, of whose merits I think I have given you a distinct 
idea, was actually discovered. 

In order to distinguish between different gases, still more 
is required than to distinguish between two metals or other 
solid bodies ; for neither by the eye, nor by the sense of touch, 
and rarely even by smell, can we detect any inequality between 
them. They could not, therefore, be distinguished directly 
through the senses, but only by observing their relation ta 
other bodies. Independent of this, much more was requisite 
for their treatment ; and their w^eight and measurement espe- 
cially, implied not only the knowledge of many other things,, 
but also the employment of the finest instruments. A tho- 
rough knowledge of the gases was therefore only the fruit of 
long inquiry, and could not appear in the earlier periods of 
the science. But the whole antiphlogistic theory is, indeed,, 
founded on the doctrine of the gases : it therefore could not 
have been discovered without them ; not, at least, systema- 
tically carried out and completed ; and just as little could it 
have been omitted, if the gases had been accurately known. 
The more various are the bodies which we know, so much 
the more skilfully shall we understand how to imitate the 
events of nature, and learn to refer them to one unity, and 
the less shall we be satisfied with mere appearances. To 
penetrate to the inmost part of bodies, to discover the most 
simple forces of nature, must therefore be a work of the 
ripest age of science. It is true that man, as soon as he 
opens his eyes, sees around him expressions of the most in- 
ward forces of nature, but they appear to him as wonders^ 
separated from all the rest of nature. Thales could, indeed, 
perceive the electricity that amber emitted when rubbed, but 
he could not draw the conclusion that it was a universal force 
of nature. He must have viewed it as a force which was 
peculiar to this material, as most bodies do not express it 
without a more careful investigation, under conditions which 
were still unknown. As soon as the art of experimental 
research began to be practised with greater ardour, the same 
force was again found in many other bodies ; yet there con- 
tinued still to be a large class of bodies, in which it was 



318 OBSERYATIONS ON 

not discovered, and which were therefore considered entirely 
non-electric. It was now observed that some bodies permit 
electricity to pass through them with greater rapidity than 
others, and thus that a body might produce much electricity 
without showing electricity, because it does not retain it. A 
means was now discovered of receiving electricity through good 
conductors, and of checking its course by bad ones, and amethod 
was soon acquired of strengthening electric action to a degree 
hitherto unknown. Franklin's genius was now first able to 
prove fundamentally that the different kinds of electricity were 
related to each other as antagonistic forces. Electrical effects 
could then be calculated ; and thus Volta, by a series of conclu- 
sions, was enabled to discover the instrument which exhibits 
feeble electricities so many times strengthened, that it was pos- 
sible to discover, even to estimate, the magnitude of electricity, 
where previously it was not supposed to exist. Now only 
was it possible to show with complete certainty that bodies 
yield electricity by contact, and that this effect is governed 
by fixed laws. Contact-electricity was thus confirmed, and 
the transition from materialistic to dynamic chemistry. 

You will surely not require me to proceed in this manner 
from all the various points of commencement in our science, 
or that I should pursue all the paths which finally end in 
one point. Such an undertaking would now lead us too 
far. I anticipate, however, one very natural objection, and 
I must meet it. I maintain that every step in the course 
of science is necessarily made from the preceding one, and 
even renders it necessary that another should follow. Al- 
though you may perhaps agree with me that this is the 
natural course of things, you might at the same time argue 
that very considerable deviations from this course may 
occur, since speculation long precedes experience ; and 
genius, by aid of feeble tracks, has been able to discover 
w^hat has otherwise occupied the experience of a century. 
It were indeed equally possible, that chance might have 
early brought to light some natural events, which, on the 
ordinary path, would not have been discovered for many 
centuries. You might remind me of the discovery of gal- 
vanism, which entirely depended on a chance occurrence. 
But I reply, that this chance would have been without 
result to science, if the discoverer had not used it in the 
spirit of a true inquirer; and however important the disco- 



THE HISTOKY OF CHEAIISTEY. 319 

very of Galvani may have been, it ^yould still have made but 
little impression at an earlier stage in the progress of che- 
mistry. If electricity had not been then known, if it had 
not been understood how to arrange, the metals according to 
their combustibility — which implies a considerable knowledge 
of chemistr)^ — then the discovery of Galvani, even supposing 
it had been made, could only have existed as a solitary wonder, 
without creating a revolution in science. If Volta had not 
already discovered how to render perceptible feeble degrees 
of electricity, it could scarcely have been proved that the 
same fundamental force exists in electricity and in galvanism; 
in short, galvanism might indeed have been discovered, but 
it would have remained an inexplicable wonder amidst other 
marvels, as is partly the case at the present day, with regard 
to animal magnetism. Even should we grant that a man of 
great genius might have comprehended such a discovery, and 
pursued it through all the feeble tracks in which the more 
acute eye might distinguish its connection with the whole, it 
yet would not enter into the universal mass of thought. We 
see, for instance, very clearly, in the early writings of Hitter, 
that even before the discovery of the electric batteiy, he had 
meditated a new system of chemistry from galvanic ele- 
ments, but he would doubtless have found great obstacles if 
that discovery had not facilitated his labours; and I believe, 
even if he had completed his intended work, which rested 
upon such delicate experiments, it would at the most have 
gained the notice of a few superior intellects, without produc- 
ing great or important effects on the course of science. We 
see a striking proof of this in the earlier history of chemistry. 
Did not Mayow discover the pneumatic theory a century be- 
fore Lavoisier ; did he not bring forward proofs in its favour, 
which now seem of the greatest imjDortance r Did he not 
recount his discoveries in a language v^hich could be read by 
the whole of the learned world .' And in spite of this, was 
not his theory forgotten till after the time of Lavoisier, when 
it was again disinterred from the dust of libraries ? It re- 
mains an everlasting and glorious truth, that the man of 
genius, in the holy hours of inspiration, may look far beyond 
the narrow horizon of the period ; but it is equally certain, 
that the higher he stands above his contemporaries, it will 
be the more difficult for him to draw them up to his own 
position. 



320 OBSERYATIONS ON 

You may easily see that I am far from wishing to deny the 
influence that genius sheds over a century or over a country, 
but I maintain that it cannot affect the whole, unless tliat 
link is produced which agrees with the previous one in the 
already connected chain. It was, therefore, quite as impos- 
sible that the period in which Mayow lived, could receive the 
pneumatic theory, as it was impossible that in the period of 
Lavoisier it should not have been discovered, either by him 
or by some other man of clear discernment. A genius who 
passes far beyond the appointed end, may indeed be a wonder 
of his age, and gain the admiration of posterity, but he plays 
no important part in the history of the human mind. 

If it is still required to cite an example of the harmonious 
regularity in the advances of science, I might mention the 
fact that Newton and Leibnitz discovered at one and the same 
time the differential and integral calculus. The doctrine of 
motion had reached such perfection, that this mode of calcu- 
lation, which is especially adapted to express its inner mecha- 
nism, was of necessity discovered. Philosophy demanded an 
infinite development of time and space; mathematics had 
exhausted itself in finite formulas, and now two distinguished 
men were at the same time impelled to strive after one and 
the same object. 

A closer view of the Law of Oscillation in the development of ' 
Science^ and its beneficial influence. 

But while we rejoiced and comforted ourselves with the 
reflection that we had found an eternal truth in science, and 
an inviolable law in its development, we glided from one 
error to an opposite one, and we discovered a source of con- 
test in this last, which might have been avoided if we could 
have at once hit on the true point of equilibrium. This 
indeed seems at first sight to be an exception to the progress 
which we believed we might have placed as a law for the 
development of the human mind. But on a closer inspec- 
tion, it would only be an argument against us, if we assumed 
that this development must happen in a direct line. We 
have, on the contrary, only assumed that there is a deve- 
lopment, and we have left to a closer investigation the par- 
ticular form in which it took place. It is natui'al to the 



THE HISTOEY OF CHEMISTKY, 321 

human mind, to work in alternate extensions and contrac- 
tions. To investigate this more deeply would at present lead 
us beyond our limits ; we will therefore satisfy ourselves by 
rendering this law more visible by experience. 

The activity of our minds divides itself in two directions, 
to create and to form. These two cannot be wholly sepa- 
rated from one another, but they are rarely so amalgamated, 
that either the producing force or the arranging thought does 
not preponderate. Each person need only remember what at 
different times has passed within himself It can have escaped 
no one who is accustomed to think, that ideas have some- 
times sprung up so powerfully from the creative power within 
him, that he has been lost in a happy contemplation of them, 
far removed from the attempt to bring them to distinct forms. 
It is true that the ideas originated in a form, and often in the 
most excellent one, ' but frequently something estranged from 
the individuality has also crept into the idea, which disturbed 
the entire distinctness of the image ; and still more frequently 
the stream of inspiration has extended beyond all bounds. 
In quiet hours. Reason, with its power of arrangement, ap- 
pears in complete activity, cuts away, arranges, connects, 
and finally exhibits tke idea in its pure heavenly form. Hence 
life, even in those most highly endowed with genius, is 
divided between inspiration and reflection, without whose 
union nothing perfect would be produced. The hours of 
production I now call those of extension, those of Reason the 
restraining ones ; and there are similar periods, as I believe, 
in the history of science. There are times, rich in disco- 
veries, when a multitu.de of great geniuses step forward at 
once, almost as if it had been previously concerted; and 
science is filled with great discoveries. They are received in 
great numbers by the clearer minds of the period, while the 
more limited minds are opposed to them. A quieter period 
now again appears, when the great ideas of the previous 
time are explained, arranged, and determined. This endea- 
vour at first promotes the organization of the new created 
idea; but at length definition is carried to such a length, that 
it destroys all life, and it would turn science to a petrifac- 
tion, if genius did not again appear, which once more kindles 
the extinguished fire ; and it seems as if it were the dread of 
that universal death which most powerfully stimulated the 
slumbering creative force. Thus, throughout all history, there 

y 



822 OBSEHVATIONS ON 

is a creative and an arrarging, or an enlarging and a re- 
straining force, whose law doubtless is, that the one must 
decrease as the other increases. They must, therefore, always 
be in a constant struggle and inyolyed in war, by their violent 
collision. 

This might, indeed, at first appear dangerous to the pro- 
gress of the human mind ; but does not our own corporeal 
life consist in a struggle of antagonistic forces ? can mental 
life in its finite form express itself in any other manner ? It 
is a law of material nature, that one antagonistic force 
always excites the other ; it is the same also in spiritual 
nature. Every doubt, every contradiction to truth, awakens 
an argument in its defence, and places it in a clearer light. 
Even the powers which are employed by the more limited 
mind of the multitude to hinder the progress of science, only 
serve to raise those powers, which ought' to be promoted to 
a still higher degree. It is therefore not alone the struggle 
which takes place between noble spirits of different times: j 
even the lesser efforts of the evil-disposed are parts of the 
great chain. But we must leave these to defend themselves 
for having undertaken to act such an evil part. 

So much is certain, that nothing is better adapted to form 
a mind which is capable of a great development, than living 
and participating in great scientific revolutions. I would 
therefore counsel all to whom the period they live in has not 
naturally presented with this advantage, to procure it arti- 
ficially for themselves, by reading the writings of those periods 
in which the sciences have suffered great changes. To peruse 
the writings of the most opposite systems, and to extract their 
hidden truth, to answer questions raised by these opposite 
systems, to transfer the chief theories of the one system into 
the other, is an exercise which cannot be sufficiently recom- 
mended to the student. He would certainly be rewarded for 
this labour, by becoming as independent as possible of the 
narrow opinions of his age. 

By such a study of the history of one particular branch of 
science, we gain an insight into the development of the , 
whole mind of man. It is not merely chemistry, it is all 
human knowledge, which, although with unequal distinct- 
ness, is always intimately connected with the nature of things, 
that has constantly developed itself by a perpetually renewed 
struggle, but which has nevertheless resolved itself into a 



THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTRY. 323 

perfect harmony. And it is not merely science, not merely 
human nature, it is the whole of natm-e which is deve- 
loped in conformity to these laws. We should have to 
describe an entire branch of natural science, and an entire 
history, were we to exhibit this in its full extent. I must 
therefore satisfy myself here, as in the preceding pages, with 
the representation of one single yiew. The development of 
the earth seems to me most adapted to our present purpose. 

We are enabled to pierce the obsciuity which conceals the 
history of our globe, by penetrating its interior, and com- 
paring the older and newer strata. We leam by our re- 
searches into these strata, and by the fossil or petrified animal 
forms which they contain, that the globe began with a 
mighty power of production, though in few determined direc- 
tions. Thi'ough alternate enlargements and contractions, it 
has gradually destroyed and buried its earliest inhabitants, to 
make room for the existing chain of creatures, with man at 
their head. It is clear to every unprejudiced observer of 
nature, that the powers of production and of improvement 
have been in alternate action, though with constant and in- 
creasing preponderance on the side of improvement, and that 
the earth has only reached its present point of development 
after many struggles. In short, the development of the earth 
was the same as that of the human mind. 

This accordance between nature and mind can hardly be 
asciibed to chance. The farther we advance, the more per- 
fect you will find it ; and the more easily you will admit with 
me, that both natures are germs springing from one common 
root. I hope that I have at least caused many of you by this 
to reflect more deeply on this rich material for thought. 
You will easily perceive that these hints are not disconnected 
with our subject; we have glanced at a higher order of 
physics, in which the development of science, with all its 
apparent contradiction, is itself a part of natural science. 
It shows us that all, in the great whole, has sprung from one 
conmion root, and is to be developed for one common life. 
But where something is to exist, to work, and to grow, the 
forces must have quitted their perfect equilibrium, and the 
struggle must have begim. One force must have conquered, 
though only for an appointed time. Another must then have 
preponderated, but this must also have been compelled to 
vield when it had brought forth its product, and threatened te 

y2 



324 OBSEKYATIONS ON THE HISTOHY OF CHEMISTE-Y. 

advance further, and to disturb the remainder. While every 
thing in the great whole, down to the smallest part, varies : 
between hate and love — while the inquirer himself must share 
in this vicissitude — while even his own human passions may be 
set in motion by the external impressions of nature, he may 
yet preserve security and repose amidst this vortex ; indeed, 
I may venture to say happiness, if he only steadily fixes , 
his eye on the firm unity, which no power on earth can 
destroy. 



325 



TWO DIALOGUES 

OX THE 

FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY, 

AND OX 

THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 



The first of these two Dialogues was written more than forty years 
ago, and was printed in the Transactions of the Scandinavian Society, in 
1808. It contains my fundamental views on the nature of Beauty ; but 
it goes no further. Since then, I have from time to time continued my 
researches upon the same subject, and given them more extensive deve- 
lopmentj so that this dialogue is to be considered as the beginning of a 
series of dialogues, lectures, and treatises, on the natural philosophy of 
Beauty. Most of these essays have not yet been in print ; but I now 
intend to publish them. The present two dialogues may therefore be 
considered as a specimen of the whole collection ; — still it is to be ob- 
served, that the first of them bears the character of the period in which it 
was written. This character I could not efirace without re-writing the 
whole ; nor am I desirous to do so, for if such a production be submitted 
to considerable changes, it generally loses more of its freshness and 
power than is redeemed by greater correctness. The second dialogue 
was written twenty-five years later. 



THE SAME PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY EXIST IN THE 

OBJECTS SUBMITTED TO THE EYE AND TO 

THE EAR. 

AN ESSAY. 
Alfred. Waldexar. Herimax. Felix. Julius. 

Her:man. You come too late for the festival, dear Walcle- 
mar ; the concert is over, and all have left. 

Walde:mar. The last news is the ^yorst; for, to say the 
truth, I did not come for the sake of the music, but to meet 
several friends, who are in the habit of beino; here. 



326 THE PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

Felix. Then you were not aware of the kind of music we 
have had. 

W. Well, but supposing I had known it ? 

F. Then, I am sure, you would have come. 

W. Do you consider me such a great lover of music ? 

F. I always suppose the best. 

W. If you consider it as a virtue, I confess, that I fail in 
this perfection ; but then I must again allege, as my recom- 
mendation, that I am a friend to a good table. 

F. A most strange recommendation ! 

W. Is it a greater merit to like one pleasure more than 
another ? I am aware of no such order of precedence. One 
person loves pictures ; another a good glass of wine ; a third 
music ; a fourth a good repast. Let every one seek his 
pleasure as he himself likes best, but let him not attempt 
to force it as the most excellent on another. 

F. You are not afraid of a paradox ? 

W. No, not when it is a simple truth. 

F. You depend upon the existence of certain paradoxes, 
which it is not worth while to refute. 

W. Especially when they cannot be refuted. 

F. Your paradox is certainly like most of them, easier to 
invent than to refute. 

W. I do not require you to trouble yourself, any more 
than I shall waste my time by refuting you. Every man 
may retain his own opinion, if he pleases. 

H. That is always a resource in case of need. Besides I 
think that it would be difficult to refute you ; but this you must 
allow, that music, and the other productions of art, may be 
enjoyed by the whole world, without being consumed; 
whereas the other enjoyments which you compare with them, 
consume their object. 

W. Here you have an economical advantage on your 
side. Your enjoyment ought to be introduced among the 
poor. 

F. And you consider it to be unworthy of your attention 
that the works of art, derived like the solar rays from an 
exhaustless source, everywhere diffuse life and joy. 

W. Nay, I think that you have expressed it beautifully. 

F. And nothing more ? 

W. No ; I see no proof by it, that music bestows an enjoy- 
ment of a higher order. Music stimulates the nerves in an 



PEECEIYED BY THE EYE A^D EAK. 827 

agreeable manner ; a dish of spices does the same. Wherein 
lies the superiority of the one over the other ? 

H. As you represent the case, indeed, the superiority is on 
neither side ; but you assume ^Yithout any proof that music is 
only a sensual enjoyment. 

W. I think no demonstration is necessary to prove that. 
Music is apprehended by the senses, and the feelings it 
awakens in us cannot be resolved into ideas ; they cannot be 
comprehended by simple reason ; what are they, then, but 
perceptions of sense ? If therefore I were to make an order 
of precedence, I would place the art of painting somewhat 
higher, inasmuch as it allegorically represents some profound 
truth. Yet I must confess that I much prefer the simple 
truth represented in clear daylight. It appears to me that 
beautiful colours and forms have the same analogy to truth 
as sugar to a bitter draught which we give to children. As 
long as there are children, in a literal and moral signification, 
so long may the sugar and beautiful colours also retain their 
value. Nay, I will even go so far as to ascribe a similar use 
to tones, as, when combined with poetry, they serve to impress 
important truths, and rules of life on sensual man. But 
painting and music are generally only the sensual means 
of allurement to virtue ; they are not virtue itself. This 
remark may likewise be applied to poetry, which also clothes 
itself in the sensual garb, in order to efiect a rapid and 
powerful influence ; but yet it only receives its true value 
Irom the wisdom it imparts and the virtue which it preaches. 
By this you perceive that with regard to its intrinsic value, I 
place poetry far below science, although it may often act 
more beneficially and more powerfully on the human race at 
the present day than arguments drawn from reason. 

F. But has no flow of melody ever raised you high above 
the earth, never disposed you to feel joy, nor depressed you 
into soft melancholy ? Has it never taught you to under- 
stand a poem more completely, never placed you in a more 
intimate connexion with all your fellow-creatures ? In short, 
have you never experienced the sublime feelings and the 
heavenly disposition of mind in which we are transported by 
the works of art ; an efiect which music appears to produce 
even in a higher degree than the plastic arts, because we 
cannot withdraw our ear fi'om its impressions as we can the 
eye from the impressions of the latter. 



328 THE PKINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

W. As I am organized like other men, I must necessarily 
receive the same impression on the senses, and through 
them be similarly moved. I will even allow that the pro- 
ductions of art have often transported me along with them, 
into a more elevated mood ; but I am far from viewing 
this as a virtue in myself as a reasonable being, although 
it may indeed be regarded as a virtue in my senses, that 
they are so soon and so easily affected. The reason why 
music is apt to awaken higher feelings within me, I explain 
in a manner which will not exactly agree v/ith your poetical 
ideas. I believe that those tremblings which are awakened 
in the ear by tones, and which are spread over all the nerves, 
have a physical influence in augmenting the activity of the 
nerves. You are aware that wine has a similar effect, and 
that even Cato's virtue was excited by wine. Intoxication is 
produced by music as well as by wine, though in a different 
manner, and when you spoke so enthusiastically of music, 
you spoke as a drunken man does of wine. You then praised 
music with justice, because it has a greater power of intoxi- 
cation than the plastic arts. But to take the case seriously, 
you here place weapons in my hands against yourself ; for if I 
enter into your mode of representation, it is surely proved 
that if the effects which pass through the hearing, as a less 
perfect sense than sight, nevertheless act more powerfully, it 
must be on account of their lov^^er, and not on account of 
their higher nature. The lower the grade of organic deve- 
lopment, the stronger it is. What powerful incitements are 
hunger and thirst ! what heroic deeds are performed by the 
passion of love ! In comparison with these the pleasures of 
the ear are but feeble, though far more powerful than those 
of sight ; whereas the pleasures of sight are stronger than 
those of reason. It therefore becomes in all ways an incon- 
trovertible truth, that music is only a sensual enjoyment, 
somewhat more elevated than most, but yet less exalted than 
that of sight. 

F. Let us now break off. You may continue to dispute 
my opinions with your cold reasonings, but I cannot impart 
my feelings to you. Yet if I cannot justify them in your eyes, 
I will not therefore reject them ; but hidden from the gaze 
of sophists, I will feed the holy flame in the inmost recesses 
of my heart. 

W. That appears, however, to be a desperate situation. 



PEECEIYED BY THE EYE AND EAK. 329 

F. When I know that I am in possession of a glorious 
treasure, what matters it that you have not recognized it, 
or rather that you will not learn to recognize it ? 

W. But suppose I persuaded you to doubt the genuineness 
of your treasm-e ? 

F. Then I would go and look at it again, and all my 
doubts would Yanish. 

W. If you only possessed the proper test for your treasui*e I 

F. That is in my heart. 

W. And is that genuine ? 

F. This is too bad. 

W. I mean as a test. 

F. Your endless doubts torture me. I will prepare a 
counter-argument before our next meeting. Pardon me, ye 
sacred Pluses, that I have not been better able to defend your 
cause. 

Julius. Console yourself with the reflection that they, at 
least, will not chastise you. I must confess that I am quite 
of Waldemar's opinion, that the effects of music ought not to 
be so adored as many of its friends are willing to desire. 
Similar to so many other pleasures, the chief part of the 
enjoyment springs from the imagination. How much pleasm-e 
is found by many in acquiiing posthumous fame, and yet what 
is this but a phantom ? "\Yhat an intoxicating delight is 
love, and yet where is all its bliss, except in imagination ^ 
With what devotion do not whole nations solemnize feasts 
for beings who only exist in fancy ? It is well known by" 
experience that it is easy to make children believe things to be 
agreeable which are really the reverse. It has abeady been 
often remarked by philosophers and poets, that grown-up 
persons are to be regarded as great children, who are guided 
both by habit and imagination in their joys and sorrows. 
And it is the same with music. By the variety of tastes we 
perceive that it all depends on imagination. The music 
which pleases one displeases another, is detested by a third, 
but is received with enthusiasm by a fourth. Who does not 
know how much we are influenced by the association of 
ideas? Those who have heard music accompanied by beautiful 
words, or sung by a beloved friend, or executed in an impos- 
ing manner, will love it to the end of their lives, although 
under other circumstances they would not have discovered 
anything remarkable in it. I have been much delighted 



330 THE PRINCIPLES OP BEAUTY 

by the story of the musician who played a piece of music 
by another composer to his dog, and whenever he came 
to certain passages, he beat the dog. He succeeded so well 
in this trick that the dog at last howled of its own accord 
whenever he came to those parts w^here he had been beaten, 
so that those who did not know the trick, thought that the 
dog howled at the discordance of the music. 

W. You do not, however, go very far in your agreement 
with me. 

J. Yet I think that I have contributed my part in assigning 
that position to music in which you would place it. 

W. I do not deny that we are allies ; but does that mean 
that we are agreed ? 

J. In what do we then so much disagree ? 
W. Do you not say that the pleasure we find in music 
depends on accidental circumstances ? 
J. Yes, certainly. 
W. And on nothing else ? 
J. On nothing more, as it appears to me. 
W. And in my opinion it depends on the nature of the 
organ by which we receive the impression. 
J. Exactly so. 

W. I therefore say that it depends on the necessary nature 
of things, while you assert that it only depends on accidental 
concurrent circumstances. 

J. Is the contrivance of the ear, then, so necessary and 
unchangeable ? It appears to me that what I have adduced 
clearly proves that there is a great difference between the ears 
of different persons. 

W. You have shown that one person finds pleasure in one 
piece of music and another in a different piece. 
J. Yes. 

W. It is the same with illness. For instance, it is gene- 
rally asserted that we may become ill by exposure to cold, and 
yet we do not take into consideration that those who expose 
themselves most to the keenness of the air least suffer from it. 
We may, therefore, justly consider those illnesses w^hich pro- 
ceed from cold to be imaginary complaints. 
J. A strange conclusion ! 

W. And the effects of medicine no less depend on imagi- 
nation. 

J. I should rather be inclined to agree with you in the 



PERCEIVED BY THE EYE AND EAR. 331 

latter remark ; for medicine, when delivered according to tlie 
prescription of a physician in whom the patient confides, often 
acts very advantageously, when on the other hand it has no 
effect if prescribed by another. 

W. For instance, if a doctor prescribes a sudorific for two 
patients, the one who has confidence in him will perspire, 
while the other who has none wdll remain cold. 

J. ^Vhat singular examples you choose ! 

"W. Or, if he prescribes wine for two persons in a feeble 
state, the one w^ho has confidence wiR find himself strength- 
ened, the incredulous one, on the contrary, will not. 

J. I see plainly that you bring forward examples in order 
to refute me. But may I ask, do you then entirely deny the 
eff*ects of the power of imagination in illness .^ 

W. No. 

J. What then is your meaning ? 

W. A very simple one. The power of imagination, w^hich 
I consider a physical quality, afiPects the body according to 
certain laws ; the medicine possesses its qualities in accord- 
ance with equally fixed laws ; and finally, the organization 
counteracts no less according to unchangeable laws of nature. 
The same may apply to warmth, cold, air, and outward cir- 
cumstances. All these powers are in co-operation, combat 
against each other, support each other ; in short, bring about 
a final result which might be previously calculated from the 
powers which are known. 

J. And how do you account for the variety in musical 
tones ? 

W. I must answer you by another question : — When you 
strike two or three different strings, which are extended, 
and obtain unequal tones from each, you will then say that 
all extended strings in truth yield tones ; but which of them 
is accidental ? 

J. No; I by no means deny that the inequality depends on 
the extension of the strings. 

W. Well ! on their tension, their thickness, their length, 
and the materials of w^hich they are made. That the extended 
string yields tones is consequently necessary, because it is 
extended; and that it yields a certain tone is necessary, 
because it is extended in a certain manner. 

J. Of course. 

W. If the ear is perfectly constructed it must necessarily 



832 THE PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

both receive and hear tones; 8nd that different ears should be 
better qualified to receive higher or lower tones in different 
combinations of tones, is also necessary, according to their 
individual organization. 

J. This is certainly undeniable ; but all this individuality 
does not do away with the general rules for taste. 

W. By no means. Only observe the different classes of 
rules. Some are applicable to all persons ; others, on the 
contrary, only to certain classes of persons. Thus it is 
certain that no one has more pleasure in a harsh discora 
than in perfect harmony. No man in his senses is melan- 
choly when he hears a whirling waltz or particularly merry 
when he hears slow, progressive, choral music. All the 
common rules of music may surely be equally applied to 
all people in their senses, but as none of us are skilled in 
music, I cannot enumerate them, nor can you understand them. 
It is, on the other hand, somevv^hat singular that certain 
pieces of music act with far more force on some constitutions 
than on others. The more numerous the tones, the richer 
their artistic combination, so much the more finely organized 
and practised must be the ear in order to comprehend 
them. It is obvious, from this — that savage nations only 
understand very noisy music, of the least complicated 
kind. In short, the rules of art are everywhere the same, 
but the degree in which a work of art is enjoyed is as 
different as the most civilized European compared to the 
rudest savage. 

J. If all difference in taste only depended on difference of 
degrees, then you would perhaps be right. But even those 
persons who are furnished with the most delicate and prac- 
tised organs are often of different opinions. 

W. You misunderstand m.e. It is not my meaning that all 
differences in musical taste depend on difference of degrees, 
but only that certain differences, and indeed a great many of 
them, do so ; but I maintain that all differences in musical 
taste have their foundation in our nature, and are regulated 
by general laws. The ear, I mean the whole organ of hear- 
ing — both the inward and the outward parts of this skilfully 
complicated natural instrument — is evidently formed in 
obedience to the same laws in all men. Its communication 
with the brain is likewise regulated by natural lavr; the 
brain itself is a natural organ most intimately connected 



PEKCEIYED BY THE TE AND EAE. 333 

witli our highest powers of conception, and therefore no less 
submitted to the la^ys of nature. How ^yill you then main- 
tain that our sensations of beauty should be the mere result 
of accident ? 

J. I neyer wished to deny any of this^ but now comes the 
judgment of the mind on these impressions. 

W. Then you mean, that bodies are organised alike, and 
receiye effects in conformity with the same natural lavv's, but 
that the minds of men on the contrary are so different that 
the same things produce wholly different impressions on 
them ? 

J. It certainly seems strange. But it is not to be denied 
that soul and body are yery different things. 

W. It might howeyer easily be denied. 

J. Then you are a materialist. 

W. Exactly. ^Vhat do you say to that, Felix ! 

F. That, considered from one point of yiew, you thus 
reconcile yourself with me ; for the necessity by which the 
impression results from our organisation, which causes the 
pleasure we deriye from music to be a contriyance of nature, 
giyes it something estimable in our eyes, which it would 
entirely want if it only depended on imagination. 

H. But yet it appears to me, that you yiew the pleasure 
we find in music, as too sensual. I belieye that it princi- 
pally springs from our consciousness of the skill of the per- 
former, the ingenuity of the composer, and the diiSculties 
both haye to surmount ; in short, that it has the same founda- 
tion as the pleasure w^hich we deriye fi'om a well yrritten 
poem. 

W. Music and poetry haye neyer giyen me this kind of 
pleasure ; for it appears to me only a waste of time, for 
people to surmount difficulties which they themselyes haye 
made ; and for good reasons, I cannot be more amused 
by the plan and ingenuity of a piece of music, than I can by 
the plan of a battle. Besides, I beg you will consider the 
nature of om- pleasure in music. He who is excited by 
a piece of music, will seldom be able to tell you why he is 
pleased, but his pleasure is great — it is an intoxication. He, 
on the other hand, who is pleased with a knowledge of it, can 
tell you the reason, and his enjoyment lasts longer, though it 
is far from being so great. If our pleasure in music depended 
on an insight into its arrangement, then it would be incom- 



66^ THE PRINCIPLES OP BEAUTY 

parably less than the enjoyment which proceeds from a well 
solved arithmetical problem. 

F. And therefore the end of all onr research is this : that 
we do not know why we are pleased with tones. Well then, 
cease to dispute about it, and admire that divine art, with 
which invisible magic awakens inexplicable feelings in our 
breasts. Go, and imbibe the stream of tones, and revel in 
them. If you then feel yourselves penetrated by a higher 
spirit, if you are in the enjoyment of inexpressible delight, 
you then understand tones, and need not trouble yourselves 
to inquire why you are borne heavenward on the streams 
of musical tones. Who knows the nature of red, blue, green, 
DY the other colours, or why by an artificial combination they 
can produce the most admirable effects ? And yet we are to 
conceive how fleeting tones which last but for a moment are 
able to produce divine harmony ! How much wiser Alfred 
has been, who has sat silently drawing figures in the sand 
while we were talking. Is it not true, Alfred, you have been 
absorbed in mathematics, while we were disputing about the 
effects of music. 

Alpeed. Both in mathematics and in music : I was endea- 
vouring to draw some tones. 

J. I should much like to see that kind of drawing, for I 
have never yet seen a tone. 

A. It is true there was a little jesting in my words, but 
yet there was something serious also. The tone itself, which 
is only a perception in the organs of hearing, you cannot 
naturally see ; but the whole agency, whence this feeling is 
awakened, its whole mechanism, can be made visible. 

J. How so ? 

A. By producing tones on glass or metal plates strewed 
with dust. Have you not seen in this experiment, how the 
dust arranges itself in certain regular lines, and forms all 
kinds of figures ? 

J. Yes, I remember having seen this performed long ago 
by Chladni. He showed us, that if we produce a tone on 
such plates, there arises, as if by a magical stroke, a beautiful 
and regular figure. He said that it came from certain sym- 
metrically placed parts being brought into an oscillating 
motion, while the others remained at rest. If the stroke of 
a violin-bow did not produce a tone, but simply a harsh 
sound, then no beautiful or symmetrical figure would appear. 



PERCEIVED BY THE EYE AXD EAR. 335 

A. Consequently, a beautiful tone and a beautiful figure 
are connected with one another. 

J. Not entirely, for those tones which produced Chladni's 
acoustic figures were frequently harsh and unpleasant. 

A. You are right. But this unpleasant impression hardly 
proceeded from the tone as a tone, but from that modification 
which every tone receives from the quality of the body by 
which it is produced ; for, as it is well known, the same tone 
sounds difierently from a string and from a flute ; difierently 
from a flute and from a glass plate set in vibration by a 
violin-bow. 

J. In that you are undoubtedly right. 

A. A beautiful sound, therefore, is only produced by sym- 
metrical oscillations. 

J. This is really interesting. 

A. It is perhaps more than that. 

W. It seems, Alfred, that you agree with Herman. 

A. Not if I have understood him rightly. But as it 
appears that you wish to draw me into the conversation, I 
ought first to know if I have comprehended your thoughts 
correctlv, while my mind was occupied with other things. 

W. that is but just. 

A. Listen then. If I am not mistaken, it was your opi- 
nion, Waldemar, that our pleasure in music is only sensual ; 
Herman considered that it depended on reason; Julius, on 
the contrary, regarded it only as resting on imagination. — 
Was it not so ? 

W. Exactly. 

A. At fii'st you asserted that music did not give any higher 
pleasure than that produced by the appeasing of hunger or 
thirst, and other instincts, which are found even in the lowest 
organized animals ; but it afterwards appeared to me, that 
you stiU were not disinclined to place the pleasures of the 
ear above that which we obtain by most of the other senses, 
though below that of sight. 

W. Well. — You will not be far wrong if you assume, that 
my first assertions may be ascribed to a spirit of contradic- 
tion, which was aroused by our friend, Felix, having accosted 
me with so much zeal. 

A. According to your opinion then, we are pleased with 
music in consequence of a natural law, as is the case with 
the other senses. 



S36 THE PEINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

W. That is my opinion. 

A. You, Herman, on the contrary, believe that the plea- 
sure we derive from music not only depends on reason, but 
that we are even conscious of it during the enjoyment. 

H. I thought so, but Waldemar has made strong objections 
to this. I long much to hear j^oui* opinion. 

A. My opinion is shortly this ; that, with you, I assume 
that the pleasure we find in music depends on reason, and, 
with Waldemar, that it depends on the senses. 

H. How do you combine these two opinions ? 

A. You shall see. In the first place, I quite agree with 
Yraldemar, that the pleasure which music affords is uncon- 
scious of its origin. 

H. Have you anything to add to his arguments ? 

A. If necessary I might add this, that we also feel plea- 
sure or displeasure in a sound, which appears to us some- 
times justly and sometimes unjustly, as entirely isolated, 
when consequently we cannot imagine any plan, any diffi- 
culty surmounted, or anything of the sort. 

H. But if we fail in this consciousness, how can our plea- 
sure be reasonable ? 

A. Because tones and their connection contain a hidden 
reason, which unconsciously penetrates our minds. 

H. Now that is inconceivable to me. 

A. "When we have viewed the case more narrowly, your 
difhculty will perhaps disappear ; if you feel disposed, we will 
first regard beauty in visible objects. 

H. We shall there at least have something more certain to 
cling to. 

A. Do you not in general find that the symmetrical figures 
which are conformable to rules, are more beautiful than those 
which are unsymmetrical and conformable to no rule. 

H. Certainly : that is not to be denied. 

A. But do you not consider the symmetrical, and that 
which is bound by rule, as something conformable to reason. 

H. If you ask whether I think so, I answer yes : if on the 
contrary you ask me if I know it, then I inust answer in the 
negative. 

A. When you see a person draw a number of careless 
strokes in the sand, do you not then think that his thoughts 
are otherwise occupied. 

H. Undoubtedly. 



PERCEIVED BY THE EYE AND EAR. 337 

A. But if, on the contrary, you see him draw a circle, or 
an equilateral polygon, then you surely think that he does it 
with a certain premeditation. 

H. No doubt there must be some thought in his mind 
about the composition of the figure. 

A. Consequently the symmetrical, and that which is bound 
by rule, bears at least the stamp of reason, eyen though it 
may haye been accidental. 

H. It cannot be denied. 

A. And do you not think that mathematical figures are 
representations of ideas ? 

H. Undoubtedly they are no more than the construed 
definition, 

A. But do you find nothing more in them ? 

H. What more ? 

A. If you say that the circle is a figure, whose circum- 
ference is eyerywhere equally distant from the centre, you 
certainly haye an idea of the circle, and if you describe a 
circle you may also indeed be said to construct this idea ; 
but if you regard a circle which is already produced, then 
you may easily see in it a number of other properties, which 
belong to its nature, and yet somewhat difier from its 
idea. You see that two diameters, standing perpendicu- 
larly on each other, will diyide it into four quadrants ; that 
the angles which the radii inclose, must always stand in pro- 
portion to the arcs belonging to them ; that the circumference 
must always be in a certain proportion to the diameter ; in 
short, you see countless properties which, regarded from the 
one side, are different, while from the other, on the contrary, 
they are the same as the nature of the circle. This variety, 
dissolved into a oneness, now stands before you, although 
in an unconscious manner, w^hen you behold a circle, and 
you find it beautiful, although you are not aware, or at least 
you do not think of all these properties. Even that remark- 
able property, that its circumference incloses a greater sur- 
face than any other line of equal length, and that it is 
described by an uninterrupted change, whilst the same is yet 
incessantly produced, this absolute oneness in this infinite 
change, you behold with admiration, without being conscious 
of the whole greatness of the idea. 

H. I confess it. 

A, But does it not appear to you, that this infinite source 

z 



338 THE PKINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

of thought which you thub find in a figure, is something 
more than an abstract conception ? 

H. It seems so to me. 

A. Could we unite all these thoughts in one, it would then 
be an infinite thought, an idea,. in the Platonic sense. 

H. That is undeniable. 

A. But even if we could not represent this idea in words, 
it still exists in the circle. 

H. That is evident. 

A. The circle is consequently the representation of an idea 
in that Platonic sense, which I shall adopt in the continua- 
tion of this discourse. 

H. So it appears to me ; but may we venture to assert 
that it is beautiful as the representation of this idea, and 
from no other cause ? 

A. Do you not suppose that the idea of which we speak, 
ought to be one with the nature of the circle ? 

H. I do. 

A. And do you then think that the circle, or any other 
mathematical figure, can have properties which do not belong 
to its nature? 

H, We cannot indeed suppose that to be the case. 

A. Therefore the circle is beautiful in consequence of its 
nature, or in consequence of its idea ; but this would per- 
haps become still more evident^ if we endeavoured to give 
reality to this idea. 

H. Certainly. 

A. If you were required to state a reason why you find 
beauty in the circle, you would undoubtedly mention its infi- 
nite symmetry, its completion in itself, forming as it does 
a self- satisfying whole, if I may use this expression, and 
bearing in its immeasurable variety the stamp of oneness. It 
is this mighty oneness of thought, that affects you without 
your knowing why. Is it not so ? 

H. It appears to be so. Now I will venture to guess your 
meaning. Were we to translate the nature of the circle into 
the language of reason, so that all representation of space, 
as something connected with the senses, disappeared, and 
nothing remained behind but pure idea, we should be com- 
pelled to say that the circle is that which is perfect in 
itself, that which in itself has resolved all diversities into 
oneness. 



PERCEITED BY THE EYE AND EAR. 339 

A. I do not, however, quite represent the matter to myself 
in this manner. 

H. I perceive that I have somewhat failed in the way that 
I have expressed myself. I ought not to have said that the 
circle is perfect in itself, but only its delineation, as far as it 
can be given on a plane surface. 

A. So I imagined, and yet it was not that to which I 
alluded ; I would not have space excluded from the idea of 
the circle. 

H. But then it becomes something connected with the 
senses. 

A. In a certain signification, I represent the idea to myself 
as a union of reason and sense. 
H. This surprises me. 

A. I perfectly well see that a meaning might be attributed 
to my words which would be a real absurdity. It is therefore 
necessary that I explain myself. You will already have easily 
guessed, or rather understood, that I did not speak of the 
outward senses, but of the inward sentient faculty, the inward 
sense. 

H. Of course ; you mean our mental faculty to represent 
things to ourselves directly, without any intervening thought 
of which we are conscious ; that which we call intuition, 

A. Just so. And although I find something one-sided in 
this expression, I propose that we use it here. My meaning 
then is, that the idea is an intimate union of thought and 
intuition, 

H. But then the idea ceases to be a purely rational 
thing. 

A. Let us not determine anything about this yet ; but let 
. us try to turn our thoughts to the case before us. We 
are agreed that all the manifold thoughts, which are to be 
discovered in the circle, are necessarily connected with one 
another, and constitute a oneness. But this necessary con- 
nexion is not contained in the primitive notion, as it is exhi- 
bited in a definition. If we deduce the thoughts from the 
definition, this is not done without the aid of intuition ; so 
that we cannot say that they lie in the primitive notion; 
but that they are necessarily connected with it. Were 
we to begin with whichever property of the circle we 
please, we could, though with far more difficulty, deduce all 

z2 



340 THE PKINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

the remaining properties of the circle from this one. We 
shall certainly never find one thought in which all these 
thoughts can be said to be included ; but yet we have the full 
perception that the circle we have apprehended by intuition 
is a totality of thoughts. When w^e have now made ourselves 
familiar with all these thoughts, and observed their con- 
nexion, so that all this presents itself as a unity to our mental 
nature, it is as if all the thoughts found in them, now pre- 
sented themselves before us as reminiscences, and formed a 
complete impression. Thoughts are here apprehended as 
intuitions, but yet with the consciousness that they are 
thoughts. Idea is thus the intuitive oneness of thoughts. 
It is conceived by reason, but as an intuition. 

H. Then it is this which is conceived in the Beautiful. 
But you thus seem to refute the assertion you before brought 
forw^ard, that we receive the impression of beauty without 
being conscious of the idea contained in the Beautiful. 

A. This may seem to be a contradiction, but it is not so. 
The idea is a unity of thoughts^ which we have perceived 
with a consciousness of their nature, and w^hose connexion 
has been rendered evident to us by thinking. It is, as it 
"were, by an act of memory that we afterwards comprehend 
them as a whole. Thus we perceive in our minds the w^ell- 
known thoughts, as if they formed a picture. This we call a 
mental intuition. The perception of beauty, so far as nothing 
else is mixed with it, passes without any knowledge of the 
idea, though the pleasure perceived originates from the secret 
harmony between our sensuous natm^e and our reason. 

H. Now I think I understand you better. The Beautiful 
pleases us as the image of an idea, without our being, at the 
same time, conscious of the idea itself 

A. That is my opinion. But you will now see that the 
idea of the circle represents itself to us far more limited, 
but also far more determined, than you lately comprehended it. 
Its limitation does not prevent us, however, from feeling that 
it contains a reference to the former more comprehensive idea. 

H. All this appears to me ,to be sufficiently clear, with 
regard to the circle. But can we now, according to the same 
principle, find beauty in other mathematical figures, which 
make a pleasing impression on the eye. 

A. Do you not find among those figures which are bounded 



PERCEIVED BY THE EYE AND EAR. 341 

by straight lines that the equilateral are in general more 
boautiful than the inequilateral ; and the symmetrical always 
more beautiful than the unsymmetrical ? 

H. Undoubtedly. But is not the inequilateral also the 
representation of an idea ? 

A. It is not to be denied; but it has more of the stamp of 
arbitrariness, less of the stamp of reason. 

H. I should like to be perfectly convinced of this. 

A. If you conceive a triangle only as an idea, do you then 
imagine a determined proportion between the sides, or 
ano^les ? 

H. Certainly not. 

A. If you then were to draw this triangle, there M^ould be 
no reason to draw the one side or the one angle greater than 
the other. 

H. That is true. 

A. And if you made any change in it, this would be the 
effect of your determination. 

H. Certainly. 

A. Consequently the equilateral triangle represents the 
conception most entirely free from the additions of will. 
^ H. So it appears. 

A. Besides, the equilateral triangle, placed in its deter- 
mined character in opposition to the inequilateral triangle, 
contains a far more perfect resolution of variety and dissi- 
milarity to oneness; for it has difierent sides, indeed, but 
they are equal ; its sides have certainly different directions, 
but they are equal in proportion to each other : every line 
that passes through its centre does not, indeed, divide it in 
two equal parts ; but yet this is the case with all lines which 
bisect an angle. In this way you see in the equilateral 
triangle a multitude of thoughts dissolved into one unity, 
w^hose inward nature is an idea. 

H. I perceive it. I also am able to conceive from this, 
why the square makes a better impression on the eye than 
the equilateral triangle ; but now what is the reason that the 
equilateral hexagon appears to us to be far more beautiful 
than the other polygons ? 

A. The preference for the hexagon cannot, perhaps, be so 
generally admitted ; but so much, however, is certain that it 
contains great symmetry ; for all the lines w^hich are drawn 



342 THE PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

from the centre to the corners are not merely, as in other 
polygons, equal to each other ; but they are also equally great 
with the sides, so that the principal radii divide it in "perfect 
equilateral triangles. This proportion is felt by the eye, 
even if the radii be not described. As it is now surely clear, 
from what has been previously stated, that all symmetry is 
the result of a deeper unity, so I need scarcely adduce more 
to explain the superior beauty of the hexagon. 

H. I perceive it. 

A. And now do not seven-sided, eleven-sided, and thir- 
teen-sided polygons make a far less agreeable impression on 
the eye ? 

H. Who will deny it? 

A. Nor are their opposite sides parallel, any' more than 
that they can be symmetrical. The nonagon, on the con- 
trary, can be divided into three symmetrical parts, which 
again consist of three equally great triangles ; therefore this 
figure also pleases the eye better than most of the other 
inequilateral figures. 

H. You seem to me perfectly right. I now believe with 
you, that the beauty of forms only originates in the ideas 
which they express, and that this acts on the outward and 
inward sense without our knowledge. 

A. And this thought, that they are ideas, infinite thoughts, 
which reveal themselves to us in the beautiful, I beg you will 
firmly retain in the following researches ; for this appears to 
me to give a high conception of beauty, higher than I can 
express. I therefore fear much, that from too great an 
endeavour after clearness, we have not expressed ourselves in 
a manner worthy of the matter. 

J. Do not regret that you have spoken clearly. Besides, 
you have led us far enough away from the subject. 

A. Then we will return to it with the advantages we have 
acquired. 

J. I fear that they will not be very great. It has aston- 
ished me much, that you have employed so long a time in 
seeking the nature of the beautiful in objects which do not 
belong to it. At least, I have never heard mathematical 
figures classed among them. 

A. Tell me, do you call the fundamental rules of logic 
rules for the understanding? 



PE-RCEITED BY THE EYE A.^'D EAE. 343 

J. Undeniably so. 

A. And he a man of understanding who does not sin 
against them ? 

J. No, not exactly that. 

A. Then he whom you would call a man of understanding, 
must consequently possess a more than commonunderstanding? 

J. We are taught that, even by our mode of expression. 

A. And thus, we only call that beautiful, which possesses 
uncommon beauty. What the rules of understanding are 
compared with knowledge, such are those fimdamental forms, 
in comparison with organic beauty. There is an immense 
chasm between them. 

J. So immense that I am afraid of taking the leap. 

A. You need only observe some of the fine arts, for in- 
stance, the productions of architecture, to find again those 
geometrical primitive forms. Yes, even through the whole 
of inorganic nature, you find the geometrical forms infinitely 
repeated. Is not every ciystal a geometrical body, composed 
of innimierable crystalline parts. The pleasure with which 
we regard those objects bears sufficient testimony to their 
beauty. As soon as you step out of inorganic nature, the 
straight-lined and plane boundaries cease, and curves of the 
most ingenious bondings appear, in greater and still greater 
numbers, the higher you ascend in the rank of organization. 
Inorganic beings constitute the elementary, and organic the 
higher geometry of nature. 

J. But yet, aU these crystals and other natural forms have 
often arisen by accidentally concurrent circumstances. 

A. Accidental at first sight, but necessary in themselves. 
But if they were only accidental, yet in consequence of their 
regularity they bear the stamp of reason. 

J. I should be rather inclined to believe the last. 

A. This must however suffice. It would lead us too far 
from our subject if I here attempted to prove more to you ; 
yet I cannot do otherwise than refer you to that which a slight 
observation of nature soon teaches us, that all efiects obey 
natural laws; that these laws stand in the same necessary 
connection as one axiom in reason to the other. That this 
combination is precisely a combination of reason, we learn 
from this, that by reason we are enabled to deduce the one 
law of nature from the other, and by the known laws to 
discover new and unknown ones. Innumerable as are the 



844 THE PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

effects determined by natural laws in every object in nature 
however insignificant it may be, I deeply feel an infinite, un- 
fathomable reason within them, of which I can only compre- 
hend by fragments an incalculably small part. In short, nature 
is to me the revelation of an endless living and acting reason. 

H. I think that you have neglected an argument of great 
weight against Julius, viz., that our sense of beauty is 
offended by diagrams which deviate sensibly from regularity. 
A line that is neither straight, nor has any regular curvature, 
a figure resembling an equilateral polygon, or a circle, or an 
ellipse, yet without answering the idea in all its parts, is 
declared ugly. But it is evident that we cannot declare a 
deviation from a form to be ugly, without attributing some 
beauty to that form. 

A. I entirely coincide with this reasoning, but I thought 
that I had already said sufficient upon this subject in the 
beginning of our conversation. 

H. True ! nevertheless as Julius seems to have over- 
looked it, I thought it was better to bring it forward. I am 
however, itiuch satisfied with the turn your discussion has 
taken, for it has given you an opportunity to throw some 
light upon our feelings of the beauty of nature, and to show 
that they are founded on the very nature of reason. But I 
have therefore become still more desirous to hear your 
opinion about music. 

A. Did we not before say that no beautiful sound could be 
produced except by symmetrical vibrations of the sonorous 
body. You remember what we said about acoustic figures. 

H. Not alone that, but our conversation has sharpened my 
half-slumbering memory, to recall clearly the well-formed 
figures in which the sand must arrange itself each time we 
cause the plate to produce a clear tone. 

A. But if I now showed you these figures, produced by 
the finest dust, and you there saw how each figure was 
again formed by a union of innumerable smaller parts, you 
would comprehend still more perfectly the infinite quantity 
which exists in a single tone. 

H. I should much like to see them. 

F. Alfred has shown them to me. You should see how 
the dust is raised into a countless number of little hillocks, 
by a stroke of the violin-bo vr. Those elevations which are 
nearest to the lines of repose, are so small that they can 



PEECEITED BY THE EYE AND EAU. 345 

scarcely be seen ; the farther vre diverge from these, the 
greater we find them to be, the greatest are placed at equal 
distances from the lines of repose. They are thus s}Tnmetri- 
cally distributed in the s}mimetrical divisions of all the 
figures. By a single fresh stroke of the bow, all is again set 
in motion ; the hillocks are suddenly changed into waves, 
and every wave seems to boil, the innumerable smaller ones 
rolling about within them ; but they all hasten in a sym- 
metrical dance, on a prescribed path, towards the great 
resting-space. Yes, a motion, a life, a creation is there exhi- 
bited, that must have been seen to be conceived. 

H. Excellent. 

A. Xow Julius, does it not likewise appear to you that 
reason lies hidden in tones ? 

J. I cannot deny that all this symmetry has something 
admirable in it. 

A. But I observe, that you have hitherto permitted me to 
neglect one question entirely. 

J. And what is that? 

A. That a vibrating string also yields tones, and yet there 
are none of the acoustic figures in it. 

J. Good: we will not exempt you from that. Tell us there- 
fore, how will you combine this with your mode of represen- 
tation ? 

A. The different parts of the string make unequal efforts 
to vibrate. Xow, these efforts are also distributed symmetri- 
cally on the string. It is easy to perceive that every part 
must have an arch of vibration which agrees with its distance 
from the nearest fixed point of the string. A vibrating 
string, particularly if it be not too thic, will in a suitable 
light show the regularity of its bending. 

J. Granted ! 

H. But as yet we have only examined the single tones, and 
not their connections. 

A. We will take them also into consideration. But I will 
carry on the conversation about them with Julius, because 
he is the one who doubts the most. 

J. I willingly consent to it. 

A. You certainly admit, in accordance with all scientific 
men, that tones are produced by a vibrating motion, and that 
they are so much the higher, the more rapidly the vibrations 
succeed one another ? 



346 THE PKINCIPLES OF BEAUTY 

J. I do not doubt that. 

A. That the octave of a key-note has twice as many vibra- 
tions in a second as the key-note, that the fifth completes 
three vibrations while the key-note produces two, and so on, 
is all that natural philosophers have determined about the 
number of the vibrations in the different tones. 

J. I certainly dare not enter into a dispute with all natural 
philosophers by denying it. 

A. Furthermore, we may surely venture to admit in con- 
sequence of a general agreement, that those tones, the number 
of whose reciprocal vibrations stand in proportions which 
can be expressed by small numbers, are easily intelligible to 
and recognizable by the ear, which thence feels itself satisfied 
by them. 

J. All this I shall leave uncontradicted. I also well re- 
member having read that those tones which are expressed by 
other higher numbers, for instance 7, are dissonants. 

A. Consequently, sounds are to the ear what forms are to 
the eye ; for the eye finds more pleasure, and, as it were, 
satisfaction, in the square than in the simple rectangle ; and 
again amongst the rectangles, it rather dwells on that one 
whose unequal sides stand in a very simple proportion to each 
other; for instance, as 1 to 2, 2 to 3, or the like, than on such 
a proportion as 1 to 7, 1 to 11, or perhaps expressed by a still 
greater number. 

J. This agreement is not to be denied. 

A. If we now consider the combinations of three tones, we 
again find the same laws. The most beautiful of all harmo- 
nies, in itself, is the chord of the major third. This consists 
of the key-note, the major third, and the fifth, whose propor- 
tion to one another may be expressed by 4, 5, 6, which is the 
simplest and clearest progression that the other conditions of 
the musical scale will permit. In the chofrd of the minor 
third, which consists of the key-note, the minor third, and 
the fifth, the proportion can only be expressed by 10, 12, 15, 
— a progression which is not so simple, and therefore less 
easy to comprehend than the former, and, as it is well known, 
expresses the less powerful and lively feelings. The same 
may be applied to all harmonies, namely, that they are the 
more pleasing to the ear in the degree that their proportion 
can be expressed by smaller numbers. 

J. All this I also admit as established. 



PESCEIYED BY THE EYE AND EAK. 347 

A. Do you not think it probable that principles on this 
calculation might be applied to far more compound propor- 
tions ? 

J. There can be little doubt of that. 

A. I really believe in this possibility, although no mathe- 
matics have yet succeeded, and certainly never will succeed, 
in exhausting the theory of music. Nor is it to be doubted 
that we still want many data which would be required for a 
mathematical theory of music. But even were we able to 
calculate all the proportions in a symphony, w^e still do not 
see them during the enjoyment ; for only imagine a sym- 
phony by Mozart ! would the life-time of several mathema- 
ticians suffice to calculate all its beauties ? 

H. Do you then find no beauties in music unless they 
can be calculated ? Is not the work of the composer essen- 
tially a poetical work; and you will not surely calculate 
this? 

A. I certainly shall not calculate it, nor do I believe that 
any one can do so ; but yet I think that it is founded on 
mathematics, although on deeper grounds than any which 
have yet come to our knowledge. But even as I assume that 
the eternal reason which surely also includes an infinity of 
mathematical knowledge, reveals itself in the human form, 
so do I also see a revelation of it in the work of the com- 
poser. 

J. But then the artist becomes a machine ! 

A. By no means ; for when I said that I regarded nature 
as the revelation of an infinite living and acting reason, you 
cannot w^ell doubt that I consider spiritual nature itself as a 
part of it; and that I view what, according to another mode 
of representation, w^e correctly call natural gifts, as a spark of 
the Divinity. Or do you think it possible for the most lively 
power of imagination to devise anything greater concerning 
the genius of art, than what may be derived from our pre- 
vious conversation, namely, that the artist by a happy feeling 
at once discovers and creates that which numbers of other 
men have not been able to fathom with their powers of 
understanding during many years of study ? 

F. I confess that I reproached you unjustly. 

A. I may therefore venture to hope that you will also 
allow me to be in the right, when I say that we may account 



348 THE PEII^CIPLES OF BEAUTY 

for the source of our enjoymsnt of art, without at the same 
time depreciating that which is divine in it. 

r. That I willingly allow. For what can be a higher and 
worthier pursuit than to produce works of art w^hich harmo- 
nise with the most profound reason, without having calculated 
them ourselves; and those w^ho are to receive the impressions 
not requiring such a calculation ? 

A. Consequently we might easily refute Julius, who is of : 
opinion that all the pleasure we find in music depends on ; 
imagination; for we have now proved that this pleasui'e has 
a good and solid foundation. 

F. So it appears to me. What do you say, Julius ? jj 

J. I can make no objection to what you have said; but I ^ 
confess that such/ar-fetched reasonings as you have adduced . 
produce no strong conviction within me, because I always 
feel that some erroneous inference must be concealed beneath 
them. 

F. And whence should the reasons be drawn, unless from 
the nature of things which do not exactly lie open to every 
man's eye ? 

J. I willingly confess that I do not think any other proof 
possible, but on that account also the matter will always 
continue to be very doubtful. 

A. Shall I tell you the cause of your continued doubt ? 

J. Can you do so ? 

A. Certainly, if you will promise not to be angry. 

J. I promise. 

A. As you yourself confess that you have no objection to 
make to my conclusions, so your douht, or rather your uncer- 
tainty — for we should not always honour this feeling by giving 
it that name — can only arise from this: that you have not 
apprehended the reasons in all their parts with due clearness 
and power. Go and study the natural philosophy of tones, 
behold and investigate every important experiment, pursue 
the calculations of mathematicians, and prove them your- 
self. When you have thus acquired a clear and comprehen- 
sive knowledge of the subject, then return, and tell me if you 
are still in uncertainty, or if you have not either determined 
objections or a determined certainty about it. 

J. I hope that I shall then have a determined doubt, but I 
have not time to gain this knovdedge by so long a path. 



PERCEITED BY THE EYE AND EAR. 349 

A. Then you will ahvays remain in uncertainty. 

J. I must be contented to remain so. 

A. Then let it be. 

F. There is consequently but one still remaining with 
whom you have anything to decide, for Julius has now 
excluded himself from the dispute. Herman could easily be 
brought to agree with you, as he had already previously 
sought the agreement of reason in art, but he sought it in the 
"WTong place. I, who held it to be unworthy to seek the 
source of the enjoyment of art, have become satisfied by your 
ha^'ing shown me its source and nature in a manner worthy 
of the subject ; now there is only Waldemar remaining, with 
whom by yoiu* own words you agree on some essential 
points. 

A. I imdoubtedly agree with him in this, that the plea- 
sure we feel in music is produced by natural laws. 

F. That is quite certain. 

A. And is a result of our organization. 

F. But this organization has a higher principle. 

W. That Alfred must allow all organs to possess. 

A. Let us, in order to be brief, connect our research with 
one of the common results of human understanding, namely, 
that all organizations do not possess equal organic dignity. 

W. Might not this be a prejudice ? 

A. Consider the thing youi'self. ^Mio does not look with 
less pleasure on a fungus than on a piece of grass, and with 
still less gratification on this than on a rose ? It is as if we 
despised the less perfectly organized creation in comparison 
with those possessing a higher organization. 

W. I will not deny that we have a sort of higher respect 
for a natui'al object, in proportion as its organization is more 
ingenious and, as we may say, more profound. This we 
observe still more in the animal kingdom, where an oyster, 
a mussel, and such things are regarded with a sort of con- 
tempt, while a bird with its more ingenious organization, and 
still more one of the higher animals, as you say, really 
inspires an unprejudiced person with a sort of respect for its 
organic dignity. I will therefore grant without any scruple 
that an organization holds a higher rank the deeper and 
stronger the stamp of reason is impressed upon it. 

A. And the stronger this is impressed, so much the more 



350 THE PRINCIPLES OE BEAUTY 

does it appear that occult rec^son is awakened to some degree 
of consciousness in the creatui^e. 

W. Such seems to be the case. 

A. And now with regard to mankind ; reason there breaks 
forth into consciousness of itself. Man himself produces 
reason, if I may venture to use this expression. 

W. We learn all this by experience. 

A. May we not then venture to admit that the same differ- 
ence which we have here found between organic beings, also 
exists between the organs of sense in every individual being : 

W. It is at least very probably the case. 

A. It is more than this. Do you not find that the con- 
struction of the organ of hearing is far more ingenious than 
that of taste, and that the visual organ is again far more 
delicate and intricate than this. 

W. Much might be said against this; but it is indeed 
quite evident to an unbiassed spectator. 

A. Besides, you know that the power of perception by the 
eye extends much beyond that of the ear, and this again 
much beyond the sense of smell ; finally, the perceptions of 
the tongue demand direct contact. 

W. All this is well known, and is beyond doubt. 

A. Further, the inward perceptions which spring from the 
impressions on the organs of smell and taste are not so clear 
as those we receive from the impressions on the ear and on 
the eye. And, above all, it is worthy of observation, that 
those lower perceptions of sense cannot be so reproduced by 
the inward sense as the higher perceptions. We may be 
pleased with tones that we do not hear with the outward ear, 
as we perceive by the musician, who, merely by reading the 
notes, has a previous feeling of the pleasure w^hich the 
execution of the music will bestow. We can enjoy pictures 
which are not beheld by the external eye. Yes, what is more 
remarkable than this, the artist in his imagination can pro- 
duce new combinations of tones and colour ; that is to say, 
new creations of pleasure for these higher organs of sense 
which act with power on the imaginative faculty, and he 
thus again obtains subjects from this. 

W. All this I willingly admit; for it has never been my 
serious intention to deny that music and painting afford the 
noblest enjoyments to the senses. 



PERCEIVED BY THE EYE AND EAR. 351 

A. But I would likewise have you consider that the subjects 
for these perceptions are of two kinds ; namely, those which 
external nature involuntarily offers us, and those which are 
produced by the artist. The last obtain all their being from 
our inner nature, which we perceive both in that on which we 
are agreed, relative to the enjoyment of art, as well as from 
this, that it is by his mental power that the artist produces 
his work ; so that the perception of the senses, through which 
it is communicated, is only, so to speak, the body of the 
mental creation. 

W. I yield my opinion, and demand no further proofs. 

A. Then let us cast a retrospective glance on the whole of 
our investigation. The pleasure that the Muses afford us is 
not merely imaginary, but a real enjoyment, which has its 
firm foundation in our natm-e ; not only in the construction of 
our outward senses, but in our inward being. It procures us 
enjoyments not merely by the strength of its impressions, by 
satisfying our desires, but by the most perfect harmony with 
our rational being. Yet the holy enjoyment of art does not 
spring from conscious reflection, but from an unconscious and 
mystic sanctuary. In every single tone there lies an inex- 
haustible source of activity in conformity with reason, and of 
harmonious life ; but every melting harmony, every resolved 
dissonance, is again a higher combination, which in itseK 
bears the same stamp of reason, and in which all its parts co- 
operate towards an inward unity. Does it not appear to you 
that, in the original signification of the word, we may justly 
call that condition enthusiasm in which the artist produces a 
creation, replete with profound reason, which no finite under- 
standing is able to comprehend. He pom-s it into your ear, 
and your enraptured soul feels itself exalted above earth, and 
a participator in unspeakable bliss. Let every one, then, 
who knows how to honour Nature and Reason, also reverence 
the Arts. 



852 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 



A DIALOGUE. 

Aleeed. Waldemae. Heeman. Felix. Sophia. 

Heeman. Come, my friends, let us rest after our long 
walk. We are here under shelter ; but as this light summer- 
house is open towards the east, it offers us an extensive 
prospect, and not less beautiful than any we have lately seen. 

Felix, You are right. It crowns the day's enjoyments. 
How gloriously the peaceful water lies beneath us, so smooth 
and blue, under the bright cloudless sky. The opposite 
coasts, with their green woods and meadows, and yellow corn- 
fields, so entirely surround it, that it has the charms of a 
lake, and it yet retains somewhat of the grandeur of the 
ocean. 

Aleeed. It is a perfect evening prospect ; it could not be 
seen from this spot in a finer light at any other period of the 
day. Herman has indeed found one of the most charming 
country residences I have ever known. 

Waldemae. And how many traces there are around us of 
his activity in arranging and embellishing it. You should have 
beheld this place when he first took possession of it. Those 
who see it now can scarcely imagine how much has been 
cleared away, in order to obtain an open prospect, and how 
much has been planted to adorn the grounds immediately 
surrounding it. We may indeed say that Herman, and Sophia,* 
(who has been an active participator in these improvements,) 
have deserved their happy dwelling. Even the growth and 
flourishing condition of the plantations, which we might 
apparently ascribe to good fortune, is in many respects owing 
to their judicious care. Although they have spent twenty 
years in this work, the time seems short when compared with 
what has been accomplished. 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 353 

A. You remind me how neglectful I have been. During 
all these years I have never once visited my dear fiuend. 
Yet I am not entirely to blame. 

H. I am aware of that. We have all of us reason to be 
surprised when we look back on the daily intercourse we 
enjoyed during the latter years of our youth, and the long 
separation that followed. Do you know that it is exactly 
five-and-twenty years to-day since we four friends have met 
imder the same roof? 

W. A quarter of a century ! It is indeed a long time. 
But so much the greater is the pleasure that we meet each 
other again in health and happiness. I still remember, as if 
it were but yesterday, the evening that first converted the 
acquaintance between Alfred and the rest of us into a friend- 
ship from which we all derived so much pleasure dm-ing the 
few years we were permitted to be together. 

H. I am not far behind you in that. I well remember the 
evening when we had that long conversation on the pleasure 
we derive from tones, or, as I would rather call it, our con- 
versation on the Beautiful, for it was by no means confined to 
what pleases the ear alone. 

F. It might be worth our while to reconsider the subject, 
and try how far our views have been matured since that 
time. 

H. I both accede to your proposal and am ready to 
support it. 

W. But yom- wife was not present on that occasion. It 
will not interest her to take part in the continuation of a 
conversation with which she is unacquainted. -' 

S. It is not altogether unknown to me, for although I was 
not present when it took place, Herman has told me its chief 
contents. It will be a pleasure to me to listen to a new 
conversation on the same subject; and with your permission. 
I will ask questions about those things which I do not 
understand. 

H. I know that you have already some questions to put 
concerning what I told you of that very conversation. Let 
as hear them now. They will serve as a beginning to our 
iiscourse. But I see by your looks that you would rather 
:hat I should put the first question in your name. Well 
:hen, Sophia said the other day, when we were speaking of 
^our expected visit, that she wished to ask you whether, 

2a 



854 THE PHYSICAL EPFECTS OE TONES. 

according to your view of +lie matter, you could account for 
music creating a desire to dance, and goyerning as it were 
the movements of the dance. 

S. I certainly said I wished to ask about it; but I almost 
fear now that it is an unsuitable question. Will science 
condescend to answer ? 

A. It would be a bad sign if science were above doing so, 
but the question is whether it is capable of answering it. 

H. And if it were incapable the theory would be over- 
thrown. 

A, I cannot agree with you there. Science may contain a 
correct general view, without our being sufficiently acquainted 
with all the facts to which it is to be applied ; for instance, 
in the present case, we do not perhaps know enough of those 
laws by which effects are produced on our own bodies. 

H. For this reason, then, we must dispense with the 
answer ? 

A. Not entirely. Let us try how far we can go. It 
appears to me to be the surest way to begin with the actions 
of tones, or rather the vibrations of tones on inanimate 
things. It is weU known that one musical string causes 
another, which is tuned alike, to vibrate. 

S. How can that be ? 

A. The string which is first set in motion causes the 
surrounding air to vibrate, which vibrations are again com- 
municated to other bodies. 

S. But it seems to me still that there remains something 
inexplicable. If a vibrating string were to set every other 
string which is near it in motion, I then could easily believe 
that the shock which the air received from the one string 
would be communicated to the other ; but as it is only the 
strings that are tuned alike that mutually tremble, it seems 
to me there must be a sympathetic feeling between them. 

A. You are perfectly right in supposing there exists a 
sympathy between strings which sound together; but this' 
sympathy has, like every real sympathy, its natural cause, 
and in the present instance this is known. 

S. Can you make it comprehensible to me ? 

A. It will not be difficult if you do not find the considera- 
tions that lead to it too dry. 

S. If I do, then I do not deserve to haye my desire of 
knowledge gratified. 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 355 

A. Well then, we will first consider what happens to a 
string after it has been bent out of its usual position. Let 
the straight line AB represent such a string, 



and let the dotted line AGB represent the same after it has 
been bent. It is evident that the string by being bent has 
become rather longer, and has thereby received a new 
tension. It will therefore return to its former position. 
But when it has arrived there, all its parts have received an 
impulse which sends it still further, and it takes up the 
position which is indicated by the dotted line ADB. But it 
has now received a new tension by means of which it will 
again retreat, and so it must incessantly continue to do, if it did 
not gradually yield some of its motion to the air, and lose some 
of it by the resistance it offers to the force which bends it. 

S. This seems easy to understand. But does not a string 
vibrate more quickly the stronger it is bent ? 

A. Not if the curve is but slight, as is the case in music; 
for although it is true that the string is more extended the 
stronger it is bent, yet the space which every part has to 
traverse is also much greater. As long as the curves are 
small, one of these causes endeavours to shorten the time of 
vibration as much as the other to lengthen it. 

S. Now I see the reason why a string yields the same 
tones whether it is struck with greater or less force. 

A. In order that we may rightly view the effects exercised 
by a string that is struck, upon a string that is tuned alike, and 
at rest, it will be best to choose a particular case upon which 
we may fix our thoughts. Let us then imagine that the string 
which is struck retreats from us during the first vibration, 
and that the string at rest lies beyond it ; in that case the 
iir set in motion by the string that was struck will give a 
shock to the string at rest, by which it will be slightly 
3urved, and cause a vibration through a very small space, but 
n exactly the same length of time as the string which has 
Deen struck requires for its greater vibration. You can now 
easily pursue he matter still farther. 

2a2 



356 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

Directly after the first string has made its greatest deviation 
in the direction away from us, the other does the same ; and 
directly after the first has returned towards us, the other will 
also make a corresponding vibration, not only on account of 
the vibration of the air, but also in consequence of its own 
curvature. The first will now again retreat, the other will 
directly afterwards do the same, and this partly by its own 
vibrating power and partly by the influence exercised upon it. 
Hence it follows that it now traverses a greater space of 
vibration than the first time, and again retreats with the same 
force. This is repeated successively, so that the string which 
was before at rest now makes such great vibrations that the 
ear is sensible of the tremblings it communicates to the air. 

S. I understand. The accompanying sounding string re- 
ceives a fresh impulse exactly each time that it would 
naturally return in accordance with its o^vn tension, conse- 
quently at the moment most favourable to increase its own 
movement. But if it had received a stronger or weaker 
tension than the other string, it would not have kept time 
with it, but have often run contrary to the shock, and thus 
have lost instead of gaining in oscillation. 

A. Perfectly right; and the same is applicable to other 
things that produce tones. If we hold a tuning-fork when it 
is struck, opposite the mouth of a straight pipe, it will by its 
influence either produce the same tones as if the pipe were 
blown into, or none at all. In order to try this we can 
so contrive that the pipe will admit of being shortened or 
lengthened, and thus we can every time give it the length we 
desire. 

S. But cannot a string be made to sound by means of, 
another, which is not tuned alike, if it only be in a certain 
degree in harmony with it. 

A. Certainly ; and this again applies to sonorous bodies in 
general, on this ground, that the same body can either 
oscillate as a whole or be caused to oscillate in such a 
manner, that it is thereby divided into two, three, or more 
oscillating parts. If, for instance, a sounding tuning-fork be 
held before a pipe, whose column of air, if we blew the lowest 
tone upon it, would oscillate just three times as slowly as the 
tuning-fork, this column of air would then divide itself into three 
equally great divisions, each of which would vibrate three 
times as quickly as the whole, and consequently just as quick , 



I 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 357 

as the tuning-fork which has been employed. An effect some- 
what similar to this also takes place with strings. A string 
cannot only divide itself into certain equally great oscillating 
parts, but it can also at the same time vibrate as a whole. I 
hope that these indications will satisfy you, as a more cir- 
cumstantial explanation would lead us away from our subject. 

S. I think I can now perfectly comprehend the matter ; 
but permit me still to follow up my idea of the sympathy of 
strings. It is not sufficient for me, that strings and other 
bodies which have the power to produce tones, are set into a 
sounding motion by tone-givers which are tuned alike, or 
at least in harmony. It appears to me also, that those bodies, 
which are set in tone-giving oscillations by other bodies, must 
again support them in their oscillations, but that, on the other 
hand, those which are only set in irregular oscillations thereby, 
must influence them in a disturbing manner. 

A. Certainly ; so far as a reactionary influence is percep- 
tible, but this effect is generally too feeble to be perceived. 

S, It is the same with these as with human sympathies : 
souls which harmonize together, reciprocally support each 
others' thoughts and feelings ; minds with opposite dispositions 
influence each other in a hindering and disturbing manner. 

H. But is this similarity more than merely accidental?' 
What an immense distance there lies between the living and 
varied nature of man and a sounding string ! 

A. What an immense distance between a stone fastened to 
a cord, which a boy swings round, and those celestial bodies- 
that move in a revolving circulation to all eternity ! and yet 
science shows that there is a close alliance between these two 
movements. You know that we are not now treating o£> 
mere suppositions, but of a certain knowledge. 

H. Far be it from me to deny this ; but it can only serve 
_ as a comparison, which cautions us against too hasty a con- 
demnation. 

A. So far I must allow you to be perfectly right, nor did 
I aim at more ; but the essential similarity is apparent, viz., 
that although the powers by which human beings influence 
each other, are extremely different from that of the strings, 
yet they must aid each other's inward activity by agreement, 
and encroach in a disturbing manner by disagreement. 

H. Yet the activity of man is often strengthened by 
resistance ! 



358 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

A. Undeniably ; but this ^ould only serve as an objection 
if we asserted that the law of harmony was the only one 
for our inward activity. Every law may be concealed from 
immediate observation by the action not appearing by itself 
alone, but mingled with many others which obey different 
laws. In this I think consists the reason why the discovery 
of nature's most simple laws always has, and still continues 
to proceed so slowly. 

S. But are all sympathies of the nature you have here 
pointed out ? 

A. As it is understood that we are here only speaking of 
the real sympathies, and not about the far more nimierous 
ones which only exist in the imagination of men, I may 
venture to answer your question in the affirmative ; which I 
therefore understand as follows, — ^that in those cases where 
well-considered experiences show that a connection subsists 
between effects which appear to us without any reciprocal 
combination, this must only be ascribed to our ignorance, and 
the connection must depend on hitherto imdiscovered natural 
laws. I am well aware that I have spoken here of what is 
self-evident, but when we speak of things which are gene- 
rally difficult of comprehension, this is not the worst that 
can happen. 

H. I fear that by penetrating deeply into the examination 
of sympathies, we shall de\date too widely from our subject. 

A. Certainly ; for we have still an extensive field before 
us ; but the little we have here said about it, cannot be with- 
out some sympathy with what we have undertaken to discuss. 

S. I am glad to find that we shall not pursue this matter 
further, for I now long to put another question : Are not the 
nerves caused to vibrate in the same manner as the strings ? 

A. If you mean by your question, that they have a dis- 
tant similarity with one another, I answer yes; otherwise, I 
must say no. The nerves are not extended strings, or tone- 
giving bodies. How those impressions are constituted, which 
they receive from the air that has been set in motion by the 
vibrations of tones, is unknown to us ; but so much we know, 
that the nerves of the ear do receive impressions from it. 
What we know most accurately concerning these vibrations, 
is that they produce a series of pressures, and cessation of 
pressures. That the cessation of pressure is accompanied by 
a self-activity, and that it consequently is something more 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 359 

than a mere cessation, we have the strongest grounds to 
admit ; for if the pressm-e produce ever so slight an effect 
on the nerves, a change immediately takes place in them, 
which cannot be an enduring state,, but upon which an en- 
deavour must follow, on the part of the nerves, to return to 
their usual condition. 

S. But such a result proceeding from the disturbance and 
restoration of its natural condition would however be a sort 
of state of vibration. 

A. It was precisely on this account that I formerly said 
that, in a certain signification of the word, I must allow you 
both to be in the right. I may now add, that the com- 
pression which is produced by every pressure is accompanied 
by a development of heat, and the return to its former con- 
dition is accompanied by an equal degree of cold. It is true 
this is only proved by experiments on inanimate bodies ; but 
the nature of the case scarcely admits of any doubt that the 
same, or at least an endeavour after the same, controlled by 
other effects, must also take place in the living body ; for it is 
certain indeed that a peculiar co-operation of laws predomi- 
nates here : yet these laws cannot destroy the universal laws 
of Nature, although they may more or less escape from our 
• observation. 

S. Our ears, however, are not sensible of such alterations 
of heat and cold, while we receive the impression of tones. 

A. Just as little as we are sensible of each separate 
pressure which the trembling string communicates to the air, 
and this again to our ears. These changes succeed each 
other so rapidly, that we are not sensible of each separate 
pressure, but only of a wholeness of impression, if I may 
say so. 

S. .What a variety of secret impressions remain unknown 
to us, although they take place in our own bodies. 

A. And yet I must name several more to you. The nerves 
have an extraordinary faculty of receiving electrical effects, 
and they permit these effects to pass through them with an 
almost inconceivable rapidity. Now as alternations of cold 
and heat are also accompanied by opposite electrical alterna- 
tions, in which, although on an indescribably small scale, the 
same occurs which is so perceptible in the electric shock, 
we thus have a range of oscillations here exhibited, if possible. 



360 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

still more mysterious tlian the previous ones. And I must 
again add, that every electric change is accompanied by a 
magnetic one; consequently this kind of change cannot be 
considered as excluded from the perception of hearing. I 
must now call your attention to something in connection with 
this, that appears to me w^orthy of notice. Light is produced 
by oscillations just as much as sound, only that the former is 
produced in aether, the latter in air. The effect which pene- 
trates us while we are sensible of sound, is very closely related 
to light ; it can be regarded, if I may so express myself, as 
another step of development in the natural effects by which 
light is produced. Much concerning these things lies within 
the Kmits of our knowledge ; and of how many are we not 
ignorant ? 

S. You increase my astonishment at the variety, one might 
say the infinity, that lies in what we consider only as one per- 
ception. But with this you also increase my desire to learn 
still more. 

A. As it can now no longer cause any misunderstandings 
we will call the changes produced in us by tones, vibrations of 
the nerves. These certainly have their origin in the nerves 
of hearing, but thence distribute themselves to the brain, 
and from the brain to all the nerves that are subject to its- 
rule. 

S. I suppose it must be so. But will not the irregular/ 
effects produce vibrations of the nerves ? 

A. IJndoubtedly ; and it belongs besides to the nature of 
the activity of life that the body is incessantly thrown into a 
trembling motion by the most various vibrations and cir- 
culations. I name both together, for a circulation may be 
regarded as a vibration, which returns on a different path 
from what it set out ; and the vibration may be regarded in- 
versely as a gyration in a circle, which has been so elongated 
that its shorter diameter becomes inappreciable. 

S. But why do such vibrations so necessarily belong ta 
life? 

A. You must first agree with me, that a complete state of 
repose is death. 

S. Certainly! Without action there can be no life. 

A. And if the action of a body is not content to constitute 
a portion of the universal life of natui-e, it must contain a 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 361 

whole variety of movements, which could only be fulfilled 
within the body. 

S. Ah, now I understand; these movements must con- 
stantly pass to and fro, if they are to remain within the 
body. 

A. Just so. The circulation of the blood, the beatings of 
the pulse, and respiration, are well known examples of this. 
Again, in connection with respiration and the circulation of 
the blood, there exists a series of changes in the component 
parts of this liquid, whereby in its course it partly receives^ 
and partly deposits certain portions, and undoubtedly with 
changing force, indeed also with a changing quality in the 
effect, since it is produced by changing pressure. In thi& 
manner the whole body is preserved by a series of forward 
and backward operations. The nerves and muscles partici- 
pate in this preservation, consequently also in these oscilla-^ 
tions. 

S. But all these oscillations are very slow in comparison 
with the vibrations of tones. 

A. Certainly! But we cannot doubt that vibrations alsa 
take place in the nerves, very different from those whick 
are the natural result of what has been here stated. In 
observing the inward structure of the nerves, we easily 
discover a dissimilitude within them, in consequence of which 
every operation that passes through them must alternately 
find in certain parts a greater, and in others a smaller, resist- 
ance; consequently, every continuation of effects received 
must happen by a series of alternations. 

W. Excuse me. You here seem to prove too much; for, 
as we everywhere meet with internal inequalities in bodies, 
which may be also seen under the microscope, we should 
in the same manner be obliged to admit similar internal 
alternations in innumerable operations, indeed almost every- 
where in nature. 

A. I by no means deny this; but we have been led to it 
by the peculiar nature of the thing. In the present day, we 
are unanimous in the admission of internal vibrations in 
light and heat, which indeed act incessantly in all bodies, nor 
can we deny their existence in the method by which electricity 
is propagated, whence it again follows, that they cannot be^ 
absent in magnetism, nay, not even in chemical effects. To 
go further into this matter w^ould indeed lead us too far fromr 



362 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

our aim ; but here I think it Is sufficient, if we are convinced 
that the admission of an unspeakable variety of internal 
vibrations does not in any way stand at variance with those 
views which the discoveries of our age have led us to acknow- 
ledge. But I almost fear that I have made this matter too 
diffuse, and therefore wearisome to ouif friend Sophia. 

S. You mean to say, that you fear I have not understood 
you. To this I must answer, that although several of the 
examples you mentioned contained something of which I 
was ignorant, yet T think I have comprehended enough of 
the whole connectedly, to enable me perfectly to follow up 
the subject. But in order to show you that I will not allow 
myself to be frightened by it, I will beg you to explain the 
difficulty which I first encountered in this matter. It 
appears to me, that such an immense niunber of vibrations 
must completely disturb, and even destroy one another. 

A. I will explain the matter by some examples. If you 
throw several stones simultaneously into still water, you will 
see the circles which are thus produced, cross and recross 
one another in the most different ways, even momentarily in 
some places mingle together, but directly afterwards separate 
again into their previous form. At the various points where 
for several moments, the hills and valleys of waves meet 
together, neither elevation nor depression is seen: we might 
imagine, that the motion of the waves is here entirely 
effaced ; but as soon as the movements necessary for their 
course through each other have elapsed, the mountains and 
valleys of waves again appear, each in its own position. All 
this shows us, that the pressure which produces the motion 
of the waves, may cross each other in the most different 
directions, without any sort of confusion being thereby pro- 
duced. The distribution of sound itself, offers the most 
remarkable examples of the same crossing of the waves. 
What are elevations and depressions in the motion of the 
waves on the water, are condensation and rarefaction in the 
oscillations of the air. Now when you hear a number of 
simultaneous voices or sounds through a narrow opening in 
a wall or door, the oscillations of air necessary for the exten* 
sion of light, must first have crossed one another in variousp 
ways in the narrow opening. 

S. I perceive that the meeting of numerous oscillations, 
which you assumed in the nervous system, is not an excep- 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 363 

tion from the usual mode of operation in nature, but belongs 
to her universal laws. I am therefore now much more 
anxious to hear how you can explain, that some of the 
vibrations which affect our nerves produce pleasant sensa- 
tions, others, on the contrary, unpleasant ones. 

A. Permit me to begin with a figurative representation. 
Let us imagine a quiet lake, whose smooth surface is ruffled 
by no wind, and where everything is still. If we now 
bestow upon it, for one moment, life, feeling, and thought, 
with the previous conviction that this repose does not succeed 
any violent commotion, would it not in this situation far less 
perceive and enjoy life, than if there had been some previous 
motion in it? Would it not, on the other hand, feel its life 
more complete and more powerful, if it were set in motion by 
gentle breezes, which disturbed the equilibrium of its parts 
so slightly that, after a short interval, it could itself resume 
this equilibrium, as often as it was disturbed ? But would it 
not, on the contrary, feel itself overwhelmed and disturbed, if 
struggling winds incessantly altered the position of its parts, 
without allowing it time to pursue its internal efforts to obtain 
an equilibrium. 

S. I understand you. We lent somewhat of our own 
being to an object totally different from us, in order to see the 
reflection of it within. The lake represents our inner nature, 
which feels its own condition, and prefers a determined, re- 
gulated series of movements, or a perfect stillness, to an 
irregular variety of motion. The waves of tone produce the 
proper regulated agitation in the too quiet lake. 

A. We naturally do not understand this figurative way of 
speaking so literally as to suppose a perfect inactivity and 
stagnation in our own inward life. 

Si That is self-evident ; but should the inward activity be 
too feeble, and, if I may so express myself, should it be 
beneath the right and natural proportion in life, it may 
easily appear to us to be a stagnation. I now perceive that 
tones may draw us out of this state ; but, on the other hand, 
it appears to me that if the inward movements are already 
too great, that tones must increase the disturbance. 

A. We certainly cannot expect any diminution in the 
inward movements to be the first and most immediate effect 
of tones; but if we are full of that disquiet and confusion. 



364 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

within that results from a variety of irregular movements, 
should not music exercise a regulating effect ? 

S. So it appears to me. 

A. But what music do you think has the greatest power to 
restore quiet and order to the troubled inner nature ? 

S. Choral music, no doubt. But I confess that I cannot 
see why ; indeed, I now feel that I do not clearly understand 
the difference between this and other kinds of music. 

A. Perhaps the difference will appear most distinctly if we 
first take into consideration the particular kind of music 
which of all others is the most dissimilar. 

S. Which is that? 

A. Do you know any music that consists of time alone ? 

S. I do not know exactly how to answer you. 

A. When a drum is beaten is not the same tone produced 
at every stroke ? 

S. Certainly. 

A. The music which is hereby produced cannot, then, 
derive its effect from a succession of tones, but merely by the 
manner in which we allow quicker and slower beats to suc- 
ceed each other. Now, since we call the order in which we 
allow sounds of unequal duration and strength to succeed one 
another rhythm or time, we must consequently give the name 
of time-music to that kind of music which is produced on a 
drum. 

S. I now perceive wherein choral music differs from it. 
Time in that does not play an important part ; I mean to say 
that its character does not depend upon it ; so that the 
beauty and effect of this kind of music proceeds from the 
manner in which the higher and deeper tones are united. 
Hence it is essentially tone-music. Time-music and tone- 
music are, therefore, the two kinds of music which are most 
distant from each other, and between them lie all those in 
which both are united. 

A. Let us now first consider the effects of time-music. 
It calls forth regular movements. How much it facilitates 
the regular march of soldiers ; no other music is necessary 
for dancing than time-music, although a mixed music, in 
which the necessary time for the dance is observed, is more 
agreeable. On the other hand we shall not find ourselves 
easily tempted to dance to the sound of choral music. 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 365 

S. All this is true, but I do not see the reason of this 
difference. 

A. The vibrations of tones, as you are aware, occur so 
rapidly, so many succeed one another eyery second, that none 
of our voluntary movements at all approach them. Whereas 
time-movements occur with far less rapidity, so that our 
voluntary movements can generally follow them. If we now 
consider that it is the activity of the nerves which sets the 
muscles in motion, we easily perceive that that series of strong 
alternations which the succession of time in the tones pro- 
duces on the nerves may influence om- walking and other 
voluntary movements. 

S. Nothing seems more probable ; but I should like to have 
this explained by examples, in which the mode of action might 
be rendered visible. 

A. We will begin with the manner in which man walks. 
Nature herself has regulated it sufficiently for common use ; 
one step is similar to another, and each is of equal duration, 
so long as we do not determine or allow ourselves to be deter- 
mined on a change. An equal degree of progress, with 
unvaried thought, and unchanged exterior influences, would 
be the strictest regularity we could conceive. But this 
uniformity is too much for us, and is fatiguing, especially if 
our attention is only turned to the process of walking ; so that 
thought is fixed on the process of walking as the nearest 
object in view. If we now hear a regulated series of sounds 
where those of equal duration return after determined but 
short intervals, the nerves are placed in accordant vibrations, 
which appear to pass thence to the muscles of motion. The 
pace becomes more animated. I must repeat that I here only 
speak of those cases where the process of walking is the chief 
object of attention. This is particularly the case where 
many persons walk together. We m.ay also add that the 
long-continued repetition of various irregular somids, which 
in this case are produced, must cause the most unpleasant 
confusion. When, on the other hand, the process of walking is 
not the chief object, and still less in accordance with the walk 
of others, we resign ourselves to the greatest variety of im- 
pressions, which, in their rapidity, produce all sorts of changes. 
We have no strong motive to regulate them more exactly ; 
but if in the meanwhile we hear a series of sounds preserving 
a time suitable to our pace in walking, with or without alter- 



366 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

nations in the tones, it generally influences our pace. Such 
is my view of the matter ; but I have explained it with some 
timidity, because I feel that I have done nothing but express 
what lies within our daily experience. 

S. Do not let that vex you. We so often allow experiences 
to pass by us without our retaining them, that we must have 
a feeling of satisfaction when we place them before us in their 
connexion. If I now understand you rightly, time-music 
regulates voluntary movements, and tone-music regulates the 
movements of the soul. 

A. You have certainly here described that which especially 
forms their chief qualities ; but the former is not confined to 
the regulation of voluntary movements, nor is the latter quite 
excluded from having a regulating influence on them. 

S. I feel that I overlooked much. How often have I not 
myself experienced the influence of time-music on the mind ; 
sometimes to soothe it, and sometimes to enliven it! And 
how often do we not facilitate an enumeration or calculation 
of names by executing it in time! 

A. And versification itself depends on time ; for although 
our language does not permit of that kind of verse which 
depends on the length of syllables, yet we receive a series of 
impressions corresponding to time by the well-arranged suc- 
cession of syllables more or less accentuated. 

S. But you said that tone-music is not entirely incapable 
of influencing motion. On what do you found this ? 

A. Although the velocity in the vibration of a single tone 
is much too rapid for our voluntary movements to be able to 
follow it, yet the succession of tones in a melody contains a 
regulated rising and falling — a motion similar to the waves— 
which first acts on our minds, but thence can again exercise 
an influence on our voluntary movements, which is directed 
in so many ways, according to the disposition of our minds. 
Therefore I cannot doubt that if some one, during one of these 
solitary wanderings, where a man is quite lost in himself, and 
forgets all external things, either sung or repeated to himself, 
in his quiet thought, the tune of " Awake, my soul, and with 
the sun,'' he would move unconsciously very differently than 
if the tune which he repeated to himself had been " The Lord 
my pasture shall prepared If we hear the sound of choral 
music when we follow a funeral procession, or perform any 
other solemn act, it appears evident to me that the music 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 367 

has an influence over our pace in walking. At all events it 
is certain that simple tone-music has neither an equally great 
nor a similar influence on our voluntary movements as time- 
music. 

S. Although I may seem to interrupt the explanations you 
are giving me about so many objects that were not clear to 
me before, still there is one difficulty which continually dis- 
turbs me during our conversation : you have certainly shown 
that tones must act on the nervous system, but it does not 
therefore appear to me that they must also act upon the 
soul. 

A. If I thought that by this you required an explanation 
of the connexion that subsists between the spiritual and the 
material, I would not venture on an answer ; but I presimie 
that you will be satisfied with what I can give, which is 
indeed but little. We consider it, therefore, as understood, 
that whatever happens in the external world only reaches our 
spiritual self-conscious being by sensations which are awakened 
in the nerves. 

S. I have heard that explained by Waldemar, which has 
clearly proved to me that without nerves there can be no 
sensations. 

A. But our thinking being reacts on the nerves. 

S. I am aware of that ; the movements which are deter- 
mined by the soul are fulfilled by the nerves in the body. 

A. Yet you certainly do not regard these movements as the 
only ones ? 

S. I do not know exactly how to answer. 

A, With all this, it must be well known to you that the 
body may either be refreshed, or it sufiers by what takes 
place in our thinking being ; that a happy frame of mind may 
drive away the evils attending the body, or may increase its 
well-being ; and that sorrow may cause the opposite efiect ; 
nay, that the passions especially exercise a powerful influence 
on our bodily health. Where the activity of the mind does 
not extend beyond the natural measure of strength, it appears 
to prolong life; on the contrary, that exertion of the mind 
called forth by exterior influences or immoderate desires, acts, 
as is well known, in a prejudicial manner on the body. 

S. You are right ; all these things are well known ; but I 
do not clearly see their application. 

A, The impression which is made on us by strong passions, 



368 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 

« • 

by great and long-contlniied mental exertions, and in a re- 
markable degree, by strong external influences, is produced 
with less power by the weaker active forces, although they 
are not on that account imperceptible to the observer. Every 
action that is thus called forth in the nerves strives to prolong 
itself, and if continued in a one-sided manner, may lead to the 
utmost lassitude ; but, mingled with a variety of others, it may 
produce upon us a more or less annoying disquiet, which is 
principally felt by a want of inward repose, a desire after 
what might be called a spiritual calm. 

S. That is true. Who has not frequently experienced 
this! 

A. It is then evident that our spiritual being incessantly 
produces peculiar conditions in the nervous system ; and we 
have already seen, inversely, that the condition of the nervous 
system is felt by our spiritual being. Now, if anything pro- 
duces a change in the nervous system w^hich would be agree- 
able to the rational being within us, if it could be aware of its 
o^\Ti present need, ought not that to afibrd us the most delightful 
enjoyment. Imagine our spiritual being, after it is inwardly 
connected with our body, tossed hither and thither in the 
various relations of life, about to lose itself therein. And let 
US suppose an excellent piece of choral music, which concealed 
the most charming harmonies of thought, w^ere to set the 
nerves in a series of regular vibrations, — would not then this 
«oul-body, lately so disturbed and confused (by one of its 
names alone we dare not here designate the recipient being,) 
be hereby led to a regulated, reasonable activity ? Must not 
this feeling of inward harmony, so free from effort, and which 
relieves the previous anxiety and disturbance, seem a high 
and heavenly rest ? 

S. It appears that you will not grant this effect to any 
music but the simple tone-music ? 

A. I did not, however, mean this. I only took the 
least intricate example first. It is true that this less comph- 
cated music, in consequence of its nature, has a peculiar 
power to dissolve our inward disturbance ; but this quality is 
not excluded from the music which combines both kinds, nor 
is music confined alone to this aim. What an extensive 
sphere of action stands open to the more varied means of 
combined music ! Far be it from me to make any attempt to 
determine the limits of either of these species of activity. 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 369 

The purpose of our conversation does not require it, and it 
is fortunate for me, since my limited knowledge would be 
quite inadequate to the task. 

S. Nor should I, perhaps, be able to follow you much 
further ; for, I am sorry to say, I have never pursued music to 
any great depth, though I have always been fond of it. Some 
blame, perhaps, may be attached to the method of instruction 
pm'sued. For it appears to me that I should have learned 
more, if I had not been taught what far surpassed my powers, 
and the time that I was able to bestow on it. 

A. I am much inclined to believe that this is often an 
obstacle to a desirable progress. Music is so connected with 
our nature that all ought to be led to enjoy it, as much as the 
development and application of the other powers of the mind 
will permit it. Perhaps preparations ought to be made 
long before it is usual to give instruction in music. We 
might exercise children early, and generally dm-ing playtime, 
by moving, counting, reciting, &:c., in time. We might cer- 
tainly also teach most children how to produce time-music, 
and bring the subject nearer to their understandings, by 
letting some of them dance, or perform other exercises 
accordingly, so that the performance might alternate among 
them. As many as possible might also be led to execute 
tone-music of a simple natm-e, and with insti'uments which 
are the most easily managed. I need hardly mention the 
desirableness of an inartificial instruction in singing, but 
which must not on that account be opposed to the rules 
of art. I am willing to allow that another method of pro- 
ceeding may be far better adapted to form distinguished 
artists. But where there are traces of great talent we can 
always take the proper measures in sufficient time. I 
believe that, by a strange misunderstanding, the great claims 
which connoisseurs can now with justice make upon artists, 
are often principally regarded, at the commencement of 
instructive music, whilst nevertheless most people neither 
possess talents to become artists, nor can they make it the 
object of their lives. Instruction in music ought not to be 
pursued with most people beyond the cultivation of a feeling 
for tones and for taste, which can be acquired by a dedication 
of a moderate period of time ; and there are very few who can 
be made with real benefit to do more than execute a piece of 

2b 



370 THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. * 

music of a very simple kind. To lead them to perform wliat 
is beyond their natural talents, while they do not perhaps 
bring to perfection what is more suitable to their capacities, 
is a great waste of powers, yet this mistake is not only 
committed in the musical branch of education. But you still 
seem to have several questions to ask. 

S. I do not remember any at this moment. I thank you 
for having answered my question so explicitly. When I 
have had time to think over the matter, I shall, perhaps, try 
your patience again, for you seem to have led me into a 
totally different mode of representation than what I received 
from the first conversation. 

W. That is exactly what struck me with much surprise, 
but I was anxious not to interrupt the conversation. You 
have entirely altered the system, my dear friend. 

A. I do not, however, think so. 

W. Did you not assume that the Beautiful is Eeason itself, 
as far as it is comprehended by the imagination ? 

A. 1 do not deny it. 

W. But you now represent the effect of the Beautiful in 
the art of music as a bodily influence. 

A. I can no more deny this than the other, and I do not 
know how an influence conveyed through the senses can be 
only spiritual. 

W. You were a spiritualist in youth, and you are now a 
materialist. This seems an important change. 

A. I was both a spiritualist and materialist then, as now. 

W. You must explain this. 

A. That is only a reasonable demand. But I foresee that 
it will lead us into an inquiry concerning the meaning of aU 
our views of nature. I therefore propose that we do not con- 
tinue our discourse this evening ; it might be fatiguing to all, 
after such a long conversation. 

S. But I am con\inced that you have still much to tell us 
about the Beautiful, which I should be sorry to lose. 

A. Do not be anxious with respect to that. If we are to 
continue our discussion on the Beautiful, we must consider 
how natm-e acts when she produces something which we caU 
beautiful ; and for this purpose it will be necessary first to 
form a clear conception to ourselves of the spiritual in natm-e. 
It has already become evident that we ought properly to have 



THE PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF TONES. 371 

derived our examination of the influence of tones on oiu- 
movements, and in connection with this, on our frame of mind, 
fi'om a deeper source. Yet I do not regret that it has so 
happened, as it will, perhaps, appear that in this manner we 
can best maintain a lively interest in the treatment of the 
whole matter, which might easily occupy most of the evenings 
we are able to pass together. 



2b2 



TWO CHAPTERS 



MTUEAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



I HAVE already presented the fundamental thoughts of the inquiries 
which are here communicated, in my dialogue on the origin of the plea- 
sure we derive from tones, and I have repeated them on several occasions 
since, with some fresh hints and explanations. By this it will be seen, 
that the subject has engaged my attention for many years past, but I do 
not the less feel that both the present fragment, as well as the continua- 
tion which I hope to give, refer to a subject which has been so little 
elaborated, that it must remain very imperfect ; and even if it should gain 
the approbation of those who are competent to judge, it must still be 
regarded as only a feeble commencement of an extensive series of 
researches, which cannot be completed by any one person. 



§ 1. When we make mathematical figures and formulas 
for the use of science, we produce something which bears an 
acknowledged stamp of beauty. The same, though in a much 
higher degree, occurs in our experiments for the discovery 
of the laws of nature. These facts, concerning two different 
branches of science, might appear at a hasty glance to have 
but a slight connection in common, but upon a closer investi- 
gation, we perceive that they are on the contrary very inti- 
mately connected, and that the explanation of this matter must 
be reckoned among the tasks of natm-al science. In an attempt 
to solve this problem, the importance of natural science for 
general education, which is becoming more and more acknow- 
ledged, will appear in a still stronger light; and though the 
first experiment may be far from satisfactory, it will, neverthe- 
less, have pointed out an important task to be performed for 
the sake of higher culture, which can no longer be delayed. 

§ 2. Our inqimy does not commence with determining the 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 373 

nature of beauty ; but, pursuant to the proceedings of experi- 
mental skill, we must search and investigate the laws by which 
something is produced, which satisfies the sense of beauty. It 
is evident that we must begin with those objects which can 
be most easily penetrated, namely, mathematical figures; 
but beauty in these is so simple, so little developed, so 
elementary, if we may ventm^e to use this expression, that to 
many we might seem to be searching for beauty where it does 
not exist. The method in which we proceed with our con- 
tinued inquiry must justify us from such a contradiction. 
We must limit ourselves here to answer provisionally, that, in 
daily speech, the most simple forms which agree with good 
taste are not called beautiful, unless they are placed in direct 
opposition with something ugly; just as the most simple and 
generally received truths are not distinguished as being 
reasonable, if no contrast demands it. 

§ 3. Every one must feel, that lines and figures which 
express thought, the straight line, the circle, and figm^es 
formed of straight lines of equal size, are pleasing to the eye ; 
-but this is felt most strongly and decidedly when they are' 
compared with careless scribbled strokes. 

§ 4. We need only observe with accuracy this mental 
experience, to be convinced that the greater satisfaction we 
derive from the contemplation of figures which express 
thoughts, is not produced by thinking, but is connected with 
the direct apprehension of the thing. It is an inward sensa- 
tional apprehension, a mental perception. We are not aston- 
ished to find this harmony between reason and sense, as they 
both spring from the same high origin. 

§ 5. Every apparent object, however simple, contains a 
variety (we may almost say, an infinity) of thoughts, which 
thought must elaborate by separation, union, and arrange- 
ment, before it can grasp it in its oneness. Perception, on 
the other hand, receives an impression fr'om it as oneness, 
and therefore complete, strong, and clear; but not with the 
penetrating consciousness of the inward nature of the thing, 
similar to what is produced by thought. 

§ 6. When we represent a mathematical line or figure, 
'whether it is only for inward perception, or also for the outer 
•sense, we let ourselves be determined by a thought, without 
at the moment turning our attention to its development; but 
that which is represented, nevertheless, contains the expression 



374 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAtTTIEIIL. 

of all the thouglits which have been elicited during the deve- 
lopment. While we represent the straight line, our thought 
is merely turned to the oneness of the direction. But if, on 
the contrary, we submit that which is represented to reflec- 
tion, it is manifest that there is a similarity of each part, even 
the smallest, with the whole; the capability of an infinite 
prolongation ; simple, unconnected motion ; the shortest dis- 
tance between two points; the fundamental measure for all 
extension. But it is sufficient to have pointed out the inward 
variety of the straight line. Since brevity, which must be 
our law here, will not allow us more than one circumstantial 
explanation of this kind, we will select an object which oflers 
a simple and abundant cause for the development of thought. 

§ 7. All know that the circle may be described as a line 
which is everyv/here equally distant from a given point. It 
is also well known, what a variety of properties have been 
discovered in this figure by geometry. Among these is its 
infinite symmetry. To which ever part of the circumference 
we may turn our attention, a perfectly corresponding part 
may be presented exactly opposite ; every line which passes 
through the centre of the circle, divides it into two perfectly 
equal parts; two diameters divide it into two corresponding 
portions; nowhere can a line be drawn without the possibility 
of drawing another in exact correspondence in an opposite 
position. We further see, that the arch is the measure for 
the inclination of the radii ; that the circumference is infi- 
nitely divided, but at every point in a similar manner ; and 
that it incloses a greater surface than any other line. This 
enumeration, incomplete as it is, will be sufficient to lead our 
attention to the copious thoughts which are expressed in the 
circle. 

§ 8. Geometry, as is known, proves that these properties 
are not accidentally collected into the circle, but are the 
necessary result of its fundamental determination; that the 
distances of the circumference from the centre, must be 
everywhere equally great. This necessary connection will 
not however be deduced from the fundamental thought whhout 
the aid of perception, so that we cannot exactly say that the 
other thoughts lie in the fundamental thought, but rather 
that they belong to it. Were we to begin with any one of 
the properties of the circle, we might from it, though fre- 
quently with the greatest difficulty, arrive at all the rest. It 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 375 

is therefore hardly possible to find an expression which woul 
represent a thought of which we could say, that all those 
thoughts were contained in it ; but we have a perfect knowledge 
that the circle, which is apprehended by intuitive perception, 
constitutes a oneness of thought. When the apprehension of 
reason appropriates this oneness of thought which is expressed 
in the perception, we have the idea of the thing. And in 
general terms we may say, the idea of a thing is the oneness 
of thought expressed in it, when apprehended by reason, 
though as a perception. We therefore cannot of course pos- 
sess the idea without preparatory thought, nor without the 
comprehension of the thought in the perception. The impos- 
sibility of expressing the idea by a simple expression, does 
not prevent our having a clear apprehension ; but it requires 
a higher mental exercise than the apprehension of usual 
scientific conceptions. 

§ 9. Now although we cannot apprehend ideas, as ideas, 
without the exercise of reason, yet the presence of ideas is 
felt in perception, which is understood by the common origin 
of rational and perceptive nature. (§ 4.) This mode of 
understanding it, is however only a general apprehension of 
the case. We must show hoio it is in what follows. 

§ 10. The beautiful, consequently, is the idea expressed in 
the thing, in proportion as it is exhibited to the perception. 

§ 11. The idea is a oneness, containing a rich variety, 
which is not accidental, but has its being in the peculiar 
development of the idea. We express the same thing only 
in other words, when w^e call this a self-development, and 
when we see in it a self-legislation, in which, consequently, 
fi:eedom and determination are united, therefore character. 

§ 12. Symmetry alone, which represents no other thought 
but symmetry, is sufficient to satisfy the sense of beauty. 
The figure ^ by no means satisfies the eye, whereas the figure 
^5 produces a pleasing impression. One part of the figure 
is not a mere repetition of the other, but its antitype, as it 
were; the object, and its reflection. The one half is the same 
as the other, but in the form of opposites. We here see the 
same opposition as between the thought of the thinking 
being, and thought viewed as something that is thought. 
Opposites, and union of opposites. Thus the fundamental 
form of thought meets our perception in symmetry."^'' 

* We can produce many symmetrical figures of different kinds, by 



376 THE NATTJEAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

§ 13. The symmetry we here speak of is of the most simple 
kind. Besides this first order of symmetry, there are many 
higher and more involved symmetries. Among these may 
be reckoned the position of the leaves of many plants. In 
the leaves which are placed opposite to one another, we see 
symmetry of the first order ; those growing alternately, whose 
stalks preserve nearly the same perpendicular plane, belong 
already to a more composite order ; the alternations, however, 
frequently do not occur in the same plane, but the positions 
of the leaves must have accomplished a circular path before 
an opposition is completed. We know that the number of 
the leaves which belong to such circular paths, is in many 
cases very determined, and that it only depends on our want 
of perfect knowledge if we do not always detect it. 

§ 1 4. In every figure which otherwise expresses an entire 
thought, the symmetry is subordinate to the whole, or, more 
correctly speaking, is so interwoven with it, that it does not 
indeed appear as if it were independent, but it does not on 
that account lose its great signification ; it reveals to us the 
inward harmony of the idea, which itself represents the 
harmony of reason. 

§ 15. It will now be easily understood, that a figure which 
certainly represents a thought, but with an arbitrary addi- 
tion, does not satisfy our sense of beauty; the inward har- 
mony is disturbed by it, as, for instance, in the completely 
inequilateral triangle ; on the other hand, another thought 
which still admits of symmetry, may be inoculated into the 
fundamental thought, which may be seen, among other in- 
stances, in the isosceles triangle. 

§ 16. After this glance into the idea of the beautiful, so 
far as it can be developed by the contemplation of the most 
simple forms, it will be necessary to return once more to the 
circle, and to represent its properties in expressions which 
most nearly point to the idea of the same ; in this manner we 
carry our example as near as it is in our power to that which 

doubling a piece of paper, and describing some arbitrary strokes along 
the folded line ; for instance, a name, which we prick on the paper witli a 
needle, without unfolding it. If we afterwards unfold it, we see, within, a 
symmetrical figure on both sides of the fold. The impression is somewhat 
disturbed by the circumstance that the little holes have elevated borders 
on one side ; but the inequality is easily removed by a very sharp knife. 
On that side where the folded lines are elevated, we see the same thing, but 
the strokes of the pen have here a disturbing influence. 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 377 

cannot be expressed. If we first proceed from the centre, 
we obtain the most perfect representation on a plane, of an 
expression of activity tending towards all sides, and checked 
in no direction. If we pursue a point which passes along 
the circumference, we see an infinite oneness in an infinite 
change. If we view the relation between its inward and 
outward condition, we find that its contents are greater than, 
with unchanged extent of boundary, could possibly exist in 
any other form. If we regard the development of the 
thought, we have an inward symmetry with the most entire 
absence of all opposites. It appears in such oneness, so 
defined, with such completeness and inward harmony, that 
it represents to us a little definite world, an image of the 
world, so far as this can be given on a plane, and with such 
simple means ; we might say, that it is the most elementary 
image of the world. The ancients justly called it the most 
perfect of all figures (on a plane surface, of course). 

If we compare the circle, as it appears amidst the union of 
the forces of the w^orld, with the higher developed forms of 
beauty, then it remains faint ; but if, as is requisite, we keep 
thought apart from all that variety, and permit the circle to 
dwell in the region of thought which we have separated for the 
benefit of our first contemplation, our views will find assent. 

§ 17. Nature frequently produces the same forms as those 
which have been framed by our thoughts. In crystals, nature 
exhibits those forms which are bounded by lines and planes ; 
the circle is displayed in waves ; the parabola in the foimtain; 
the hyperbola in Chladni's acoustic figures, and so on. In 
this manner we again meet, in nature, with what was created 
by our own thought ; what w^ere thoughts within us, are, 
without us, laws of nature. "We become most perfectly con- 
vinced of this, by a universal contemplation of the whole of 
natm-al science. It is there shown, that the laws of nature 
are the laws of reason, that indeed the whole of nature is the 
revelation of eternal living reason.* 

* I have endeavoured to represent this in my introduction to Natural 
Philosophy (Copenhagen, 1811), of which there is an improved translation 
in Schweigger's Journal for 1822, vol. 36, p. 458, One of the chief 
points in proof of the above is, that we are able, by thought, to deduce from 
known laws of nature, others, which are actually again found by experience ; 
and that if this does not occur, we generally discover in what manner we 
have drawn a false conclusion. Hence we perceive, that the same laws of 
thought, by which we have made our conclusions, also prevail in nature. > 



378 THE NATUHAL PHILOSOPHY Off THE BEAUTIFUL. 

§ 18. Nature, however, does not confine herself to the 
production of mere mathematical forms. She adds far more. 
How this happens, and how this acts, ^ve will consider, in 
some of the instances which appear to us most easy of com- 
prehension. 

§ 19. If w^e throw a stone into still water, and follow with 
our eye the circle of waves which is produced, the impres- 
sion at once teaches us that w^e have not alone to do with 
mere circles, but that these are exhibited to us in a con- 
centric progress of elevations and depressions. We have not 
passive but moving forms before us. A closer investigation 
shows us that the portions move in their own circular path, 
or in vibrations, so that what meets the eye is the result of 
innumerable inward movements. The same investigation 
also shows, that all these happen according to universal laws 
of nature. 

§ 20, But to this w^e must add the co-operation of the 
rest of nature wdth those effects which are merely the conse- 
quence of the expansion of movements. It is a light, as it 
were, beaming in from the rest of nature. The brightness in 
the expanse of water, the variety of light and shadow in the 
portions of the waves, the play of colour produced by the 
motion, give a life and completeness to the whole, which was 
wanting in mathematical figures. This variety, added to the 
original effect, must not be compared with that with which 
an object is often arbitrarily adorned. It belongs to the con- 
nection of reason peculiar to nature, that there is a higher 
unity in all these effects, which nature thus combines. 

The question why all nature is not beautiful obtrudes itself 
here, but its answer must be postponed to the continuation 
of the researches. 

§ 21. A stiU greater variety arises from the mutual cross- 
ings of the circles of the waves ; w^here elevated circles of 
waves cross each other, a greater elevation is produced ; and 
where depressed circles meet, a greater depression ensues ; 
but where depression encounters elevation, a balance is per- 
ceived. These may often please us by a great variety, when, 
nevertheless, the arrangement is imperceptible. \V. Weber 
has given an experiment in which a remarkable variety 
springs from one thought. An elliptical bowl is filled with 
quicksilver, and a succession of drops of quicksilver are 
allowed to fall into one of the foci, by which a succession of 



THE NATUEAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 379 

circular waves are formed. Where these hit the sides, they 
are repelled in such a manner that each waye-radius, after the 
repulsion, receives a dii'ection towards the other focus. Thus 
by the repulsion a new centre is produced in the waves, so 
that now the surface is filled up with two perfectly similarly 
constituted systems of waves. By the intersection of these 
waves new curves are formed, replete with differences, yet 
with the clear stamp of one law. In this variety the un- 
avoidable alternation of light and shadow brings with it a 
new variety, no less accordant with this law, and bearing 
the stamp of thought as strongly as the curves. A delinea- 
tion certainly gives an instructive idea of this variety, but 
yet the sight of the activity itself is infinitely more beautiful; 
for the motion, and the consequent flashes of light, cannot 
be given by any delineation. 

^ 22. Acoustic ficrures exhibit another remarkable aorree- 
raent of natural effects, which, to the uninitiated, must appear 
infinitely various, while in reality they stiU derive their origin 
from one fundamental thought in nature. The plate which 
is strewed with dust, exhibits to the eye divisions and figures 
determined by law, consequently, forms with the stamp of 
thought. But it is only when the vibrations produce figures 
which are pleasing to the eye, that the ear is also gratified by 
the impressions which we receive from them through the air. 
The one sense thus also confirms the testimony of the other, 
with reference to the impression of beauty. 

§ 23. The most simple laws by which the relations of tones 
affect us agreeably or disagreeably, are so well known, that I 
need only refer to them at present. Every one knows that 
only those relations of tones are agreeable which can be 
expressed by very small numbers, or by such greater ones as 
are composed from the smaller ones in a mode easy of com- 
prehension. The same relations of tones are also those which 
are most easily comprehended and recognized by our senses ; 
indeed, where it is a question of the meeting of very few 
tones, the ease of comprehension and the pleasure bestowed 
seem perfectly to coincide. It is no less well known that 
the order in w^hich tones of unequal duration follow one 
another — that is to say, rhythm — obeys the most simple laws 
of numbers. But in the combinations of tones which are 
composed, where dissonances are employed, and where these 
are again resolved, we may venture to make the remark, in 



380 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

general, that the commencement of the dissonances allows us 
to feel a want of totality which is suppHed by the tones 
through which dissonances are resolved.^ 

§ 24. But when we have become convinced that certain 
thoughts and relations form the essence of the beauty of 
tones, it will then be justly demanded, that it should be ren- 
dered evident how it is that tones can produce such great 
effects on the senses. With regard to this, it must first be 
shown generally that certain harmonies may promote effects, 
and certain discords oppose them; it must afterwards be 
shown that this may be applied to the living being. 

§ 25. It is well known that strings which yield similar 
tones when thrown into vibration, exhibit the remarkable 
condition, that if one of them be struck, the other, as if of its 
own accord, sounds with it ; but that strings which produce 
different tones do not exhibit this condition, unless one, while 
it is subdivided into certain smaller sounding portions, should 
perhaps yield a harmony. We are not surprised that the 
vibrations in one string should awaken similar ones in the 
other ; for the vibrating string causes the air, and all parts 
which are in connection with it, to tremble, and this may 
again affect the reposing string ; but we are surprised that 
this communication is not exhibited when the strings yield 
a tone which would produce discord. The effects must occur 
in the one case as much as in the other. And such is the 
case ; the effects do occur ; but in the first instance, we have 
a series of effects in which the one part strengthens the 
other ; in the last, on the contrary, they mutually destroy 
each other. Let us imagine two extended strings, which are 
similar in all respects ; when they are curved, they will vibrate 
with equal velocity, even should they not be equally forcibly 
curved ; for the greater the curve, so much the greater, in- 
deed, is the moving force ; but at the same time so much the 
longer is the path which each vibrating portion has to pass 
through. If, therefore, one of two such strings is struck, at 

* As the fundamental principles of the relations between consonant 
;and dissonant tones are treated in so many books of instructions^ I have ; 
only alluded to them here. On the other hand^ I would have willingly 
spoken of the comparison which my ingenious friend, C. S. Weiss, has 
instituted between the proportionate dimensions in crystals, and the ' 
relative conditions of harmonies (Ei-oceedings of the Academy of Berlin ; 
for 1818 and 1819, pp. 227—241), if this could have been done at pre- 
sent, without entering too diffusely into crystallography. 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 381 

each yibration it will give a blow in one direction to the air, 
and to the intermediate parts connecting the other strings, 
which shock will thus communicate itself to the other strings. 
By this means an extremely small yibration is produced in 
this string, but exactly of the same duration as that of the 
first ; when thereupon the first makes a backward vibration, 
the other M'ill also partly turn back, in consequence of its 
owTi tension, and the motion that it has thus received; partly 
it will receive a new impression, caused by the first, which 
will favour its motion, and so on. In this manner, a series 
of small vibrating blows are produced in the other string, 
which, taken separately, would not be sufiicient to produce a 
tone recognizable to the ear, but whose whole sum is strong 
enough for the purpose. If, on the other hand, this accord- 
ance in the vibrations be lost, then the atmospheric blow pro- 
ceeding from the first string will certainly call forth vibra- 
tions in the other ; but these will occur in such a manner that 
they often encounter blows which go exactly against their 
motion, and therefore will arrest the action which has com- 
menced, so that no important sum of efiects is apparent. 

All this is sufficiently well known, but was necessarily 
mentioned for the sake of the connection. 

§ 26. This condition in the strings is unscientifically desig- 
nated as sympathy ; and science may very well admit this 
name, though not if it is to designate an incomprehensible, 
obscure force in nature. We cannot object to this name, 
because the efiect appears to be one-sided ; for the string which 
causes another to vibrate, itself receives from it counter- 
efiects, by which, if ever so little, it is supported in its own 
vibrations, as its efiects on w4iat surrounds it are also 
supported by the other string. If, on the contrary, the other 
string is discordant, it will exercise a disturbing reaction on 
the vibrations of the first, equally feeble, indeed, but on that 
account by no means to be accounted as nothing. If the 
string had sensation, it would then feel its being and action ele- 
vated by the harmony of the other, and enfeebled and distm-bed 
by its discord. In the first case, therefore, its feeling of life 
would be heightened, and it would on that account enjoy a 
happy satisfaction ; in the latter case, it would be enfeebled, 
consequently dissatisfaction and discordance would be the 
result (antipathy). 

§ 27. If we imagine a string set in tremulous motion by 



382 THE KATUKAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIEUL, 

various vibrations, which, are excited in it from without, and 
discordant with its fundamental tones ; and if it now receives 
the impression of another sounding body, which sets it in 
natural vibrations, then those non-harmonious motions will 
be partly removed from it, and be to a certain degree rendered 
comparatively feeble. If the string had sensation, it would 
feel itself delivered by this harmonious tone -vibration from a 
multitude of secret disturbing impressions," of which it is 
unconscious, and would rejoice in this deliverance and its 
own increased self-enjoyment. 

§ 28. But can this be applied to man? The differences 
are indeed, in certain respects, wonderfully great; but if we 
turn away from the peculiarities in the vibrations of strings, 
and if we call each alternate transition from one condition to 
another in opposition to it, a vibration ; then the whole of 
existence is penetrated by vibrations, and we are now 
aware that light and heat, equally with sound, depend upon 
them. Among those vibrations which occur in our own 
bodies, respiration and the beating of the pulse do not escape 
the attention of the most careless ; but he who reflects more 
closely what important internal changes are connected with 
respiration and the movement of the blood, will not doubt 
that many hidden alternations must necessarily be the result. 
We will here consider the vibrations which exist in con- 
nection with the effects of tones. Every tone is produced by 
a series of tone-waves, and each of these makes an impression 
on the organ of hearing, which is followed by a retrograde 
movement ; thus a series of compressions and expansions 
take place in the acoustic nerves ; or if they cannot be so 
designated, a series of alternating opposite impressions. But 
still more changes result from these compressions and ex- 
pansions. Every compression produces a development of 
heat, every expansion produces cold. In their rapid suc- 
cession these effects are not felt as heat or cold ; but none 
will easily doubt that conditions in the nerves correspond to 
this. Further, electrical changes are connected with these 
variations of temperature ; and with these again, magnetic ; 
and however small they may be, they cannot be unim- 
portant. 

§ 29. We have hitherto spoken of the acoustic nerve in 
general, but it would evidently be a great error to compare 
it with a single string. As a whole, it receives the impres- 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE PEAUTIFITL. 383 

sion of all tones ; but the ingenious development in this per- 
ceptional organ gives us reason to suppose that it contains 
subordinate parts for the apprehension of the different tones. 
Were any one to doubt this, he would still be compelled to 
grant that the ear bears the same relation to tones as a 
whole system of strings in which all tones find a consonance. 
Should any one, on the other hand, consider it too bold an 
idea, that the nerves, as it were, are consonant, this must 
either proceed because, contrary to express declaration, he 
instituted in our comprehension too close a comparison 
between the extended strings and the nerves, or because he 
overlooked the truth that every organ of sense must be 
itself capable of producing the impressions contained, or, if 
one would rather have it, has itself the power to repeat them. 
We might, on this occasion, point to the experience, that 
both the sensation of sight and hearing continue after the 
external cause is removed. 

§ 30. By the impression which all external nature makes 
upon us, the acoustic nerve, and through this the whole 
nervous system, is in incessant vibrations, which are fre- 
quently so feeble that we are unconscious of them; but 
when w^e ai-e alone in the silence of night, we shall distinctly 
feel that what we previously considered silence is no longer 
so ; and yet even the deep silence of night is not an entire 
cessation of all tone-vibrations. In the imcertain vibratory 
condition of those nerves, the tones enter and produce a 
powerful active force, where formerly it was only a dormant 
one; and, along with it an order, a harmony, which suppresses 
the irregular movements, or makes them impracticable. But 
it will be advisable to explain these relations by examples. 
We will turn our attention to the process of walking, in man. 
Each step is the result of a new impression on the muscles 
of movement, proceeding from the nerves ; and the pro- 
cess of walking presupposes vibrations of the nerves, in the 
signification which we before mentioned. (§ 28.) Now when 
neither the thinking will is in a direct manner turned on 
our walking, nor a ruHng disposition exercises an indirect 
effect upon it, it will then show itself undetermined in so 
far as it does not bear the impression of strong habit. But 
should this man, during his undetermined walk, hear some 
music of marked time, for instance that of a drum, his walk 
will be regxdated accordingly. The vibrations of the acoustic 



384 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

nerve will be communicated to tlie whole system. In the 
same degree as a piece of music peculiarly derives its cha- 
racter from the relations of tone, and possesses no strongly 
marked tune, (rhythm,) it will have less direct influence on 
the movements of man, but more on the disposition of his 
mind, which has again greater or less influence upon motion. 
Should a wanderer who is not absorbed in any determined 
thoughts, hear significant choral music, he will certainly be 
thrown into a corresponding disposition of mind, which will 
not fail to influence his pace. 

§ 31. It therefore appears, that if we station ourselves in 
external nature, for the co;aLtemplation of the impressions of 
tones, they must appear to belong wholly to the material 
world ; if, on the contrary, we station ourselves in the world 
of thought, their whole nature seems to belong to this. But 
after we have accomplished this separation, both must be 
comprehended in one. The laws of nature in the material 
world, are laws of reason, revelations of a rational will ; but 
when we thus consider all material nature, as the constant 
work of eternal reason, our contemplation cannot remain at 
this point, but leads us by thought to view the laws of the 
universal nature. In other words, soul and nature are one, 
seen from two difierent sides : thus we cease to wonder at 
their harmony. 



II. 

§ 32. Inasmuch as sound is produced by vibrations, which ' 
reach our ear through the air, so is light produced by 
vibrations, which reach our eye through aether, which is such 
a fine material that air in comparison with it is very thick 
and heavy.^' 

§ 33. ^ther- vibrations, to produce the sensation of light, 
must have a certain velocity. If the velocity is either 
greater or less, the aether-vibrations produce no sensation of 
light, though they are not wholly ineflScient. They give 
rise to several other processes, playing a most impor- 
tant part in the economy of nature, more especially heat 

* Sound- vibrations may indeed occur in other bodies as well as air, 
but as it is peculiarly through this that they reach our ear, we only 
mention air in the comparisons which are made, here and in the sequel, 
between sound and light. 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 385 

and chemical changes. The slower vibrations more especially 
cause heat-action, the quicker ones strong chemical action. 

§ 34. In order to perceive the great importance of this, we 
must keep in view how the w-hole of the material world is 
penetrated by invisible movements, ^vhicli determine the 
whole being of bodies in a far higher degree than we ai^e 
accustomed to consider. 

In such contemplations we must beware of being arrested 
or confounded by the illogical though somewhat natural 
thought from which but few can emancipate themselves, that 
the real nature of the material is a dead passive existence. 
The following, though only a hasty survey, wdil contribute 
to awaken the correct idea of this. 

No one now doubts that heat is an inward vibratory move- 
ment ; but by heat, also, the amount of space occupied by 
a body is determined, and the manner in which it fills this 
space. It depends on internal heat, whether this body shall 
exist in a solid, liquid, or gaseous condition ; whether, there- 
fore, it shall forcibly retain a determined figure, or shall 
yield to every pressure ; whether it shall occupy a small space, 
or one many hundred or many thousand times greater. 
Let us now imagine that all bodies are incessantly agitated 
by rays of heat, that each moment they give and receive, 
and this not alone on the surface, but again within, between 
part and part, and we shall, even at a glance, perceive 
how the nature of the being belonging to a body, is deter- 
mined by a constant, enduring, outward, and inward struggle, 
in which all apparent inaction is only an equipoise between 
the opposite and unextinguishable active forces, vrhich is 
limited to certain periods. 

But heat is not the only effect of these vibrations; the che- 
mical, electrical, and magnetic condition of bodies, is also 
most intimately connected with it. 

From the Sun proceeds the great active force, v/hich espe- 
cially maintains all this inner motion. It does not merely 
incessantly send to the earth actual Light-rays, (visible rays,) 
but likewise Heat-rays with their slower vibrations, and those 
rapidly vibrating rays which are alone distinguishable by 
chemical action. The manner in which all these efiects 
resemble or difi'er from each other, is still disputed ; but their 
intimate connection is not questioned. 

§ 35. From all this it is easy to perceive, that light con- 

2c 



386 THE ^'ATUEAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEArTIFrL. 

tains the germ of that inexpressibly Yarious inward activits-, 
which is hidden to the immediate impression of the senses, 
and by which the whole of the material world is prevented 
from falling together. If it were possible for that agency to 
cease which is revealed to us by light, then all these inner 
movements, which depend upon opposites, would follow their 
tendency to equipoise, which would be the same as an inward 
passage to a state of rest, accompanied by a universal eva- 
nescence and ruin: and it would necessarily end in a universal 
state of inaction and death. Light is, therefore, a great 
revelation of the universal life of nature. Darkness also 
here receives its deeper signification. It may indeed be de- 
signated as an absence of light ; but we now see that dark- 
ness cannot exist without the occurrence of an inner move- 
ment towards destruction and death. Our pleasure in light, 
and our dread of dai'kness, is most deeply founded in all this 
relative condition of light and darkness. 

§ 36. If we only dii-ected our thoughts to this deepi 
foimdation, without uniting to it the perception of the effects 
on the senses, we should not understand how the whole rela- 
tive condition might have appeared in the consciousness of the 
human race : but all this inner activity could not have existed 
without the testimony of the senses. We feel this in the 
arousing force exercised on us by light, and in the heat 
with which it penetrates us. All external nature shows 
us, by innumerable revelations, the same arousing, enlivening, 
fertilizing activity. There is, therefore, no gap between the 
manifold inward activity which is recognised through the 
thoughts, and the great and rich impression which light cal- 
forth to om- senses : they are only different expressions of t.: 
same thing. A keen sense of nature has, therefore, alwa; 
placed light and life, darkness and death, in connection wun 
each other. This was most strongly and beautifully expressed, 
in its f'j. amental features, in the lessons of Zoroaster. Evc: 
the connection in which he viewed light and virtue, dai'kne- 
and evil, will be shown in the sequel to be something mc: 
than emptv imagery. What has been created by the sens 
of natine, and what has been developed by the imagination, 
wiU, in the course of time, as thought extends her dominion 
be driven back, till, by constant progress, thought reach, 
a point where it can decide either whether the imaginatioii 
has guided the sense of nature on a false track, or whether the 



THE KATUKAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 387 

first lively apprehension may be fundamentally justified as a 
true inspiration of nature.^' 

§ 37. By an action of the mind we are able to raise our- 
selves above the impression of grief and terror which is 
roused within us by darkness, and we can retreat to our own 
inward nature. We then feel ourselves withdrawn, by the 
removal of light, from the variety of difierent impressions 
which we are accustomed to receive from it, and can so much 
more freely allow ourselves to be governed by a mental 
activity which is directed towards the Infinite. Thus dark- 
ness is the mother of holy solemnity, but its father is the pure 
Spiritual contained in the world of light which can be 
destroyed by no darkness. 

§ 38. It belongs wholly to the nature of the thing that we are 
unconscious of the action of light without an opposite impres- 
sion. There is no consciousness of light without darkness. 
The pleasure Ave feel in the transition from a long period of 
darkness to light, is known to every one. Even the transition 
from a sky obscured by clouds has a cheering influence on 
every well-constituted mind. Our pleasure in light also forms 
an essential part of our feelings, in the contemplation of a 
starlit sky. The eye here receives the impression of points of 
light, each of which in its struggle with darkness exhibits au 
immeasurable power of light in proportion to its size. These 
dear lights overcome, indeed, the darkness in the expanse of 
heaven, but the earth lies dark and dead before us, and filled 
with the terror of darkness, while the eye receives light as it 
looks upwards towards heaven. This feeling seldom gains 
great force except in free nature, far from man and his works. 

§ 39. It is easy to perceive that the satisfaction we feel in 
this belongs to a happy alternation of light and shade. In 
aature, where it is always conformable to law, it is indeed 
constantly correct, but not, therefore, always equally within 
the limits of our view. This capacity of being surveyed, this 
eomprehensibility, is a necessary condition for our enjoyment 
(compare § 23). A circumstantial development of the doc- 
trine of light and shadow might, perhaps, be demanded here ; 
but such would be beyond our object, which does not aim at 

* It must be understood, that the inspiration of nature is of divine 
origin, as is the whole of nature ; but the appellation must be selected 
deliberately, according to its most immediate acceptation, not to mention 
that we must not be lavish of high-sounding words. 

2 c 2 



388 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

giving a practical theory of Beauty, but a statement of the 
primary laws of the Beautiful. 

§ 40. As opposites in symmetry assist our perception in 
the comprehension of form, the opposites of light and darkness 
assist our perception of sensation. In s^^mmetry we encoun- 
ter the opposites of forms ; in the relative conditions of light 
the opposites of effects. In symmetry we are more forcibly 
conscious of the sum of thoughts ; in the apprehension of 
light, on the contrary, the feeling of the reality preponderates. 
But in this reality we feel the presence of a spiritual life. 
Just as in forms, far more is contained than the opposites of 
symmetry, so in light, far more exists than the opposites 
between growth {iverden) and the return to nothing. Be- 
sides what we have already mentioned as arousing feeling, a 
whole world is unfolded to us in colours, which w^e will pre- 
sently consider from a nearer point of view. 

But in the infinitely rich development of light, the sum of 
Keality (the Real) is most prominent, while in the develop- 
ment of form the sum of thought (the Ideal) is most 
apparent. 

A combination of a sum of thought and a feeling of reality 
is also apparent to the ear, but more intimately united ; in 
other words, less apart, less unfolded and proved to our con- 
sciousness. The development of the spiritual could not be so 
perfect in a mind w^hich almost limits itself within the form 
of time. It might, indeed, be said that sight most nearly 
belongs to the form of space ; but in this comprehension by 
the senses, time always exercises an influence. It is only 
by the addition of speech that the ear receives a more varied 
function, but then it is especially in the service of thought. 

§ 41. In order to arrive at a closer insight into the relation 
of surfaces to light, we must distinguish between the two 
ways in which they reflect the light they receive. Each 
point emitting light is, as such, the point of issue for a suc- 
cession of sether-waves. Each straight line which can be 
drawn from this point perpendicularly upon the surface of 
the waves, marks the direction in which it acts, and is called 
a ray of light. Since the light which proceeds from a point 
and falls upon a surface, occupies a space in the form of a cone, 
that circumscribed segment of a collection of waves of light, 
^ — such an outwardly limited, but inwardly infinite collection 
of rays of light, — is called a cone of light, a cone of rays. If 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 389 

the cone of rays falls upon a polished and flat surface, it is 
reflected in such a manner that all its rays retain their relative 
position, so that the eye receives this bent-back light, as if it 
proceeded from the point of light ; only with this diflerence, 
that the eye, which is unaware of the change in the direction, 
imagines the point just as far behind the polished surface, as 
in reality it is before it. Even when the polished surface is 
not a plane, but has certain regular forms. — as, for example, 
the form of a sphere, of the paraboloid, of the hyperboloid, of 
the cone, of the cylinder, the rays are so reflected that those 
which reach the eye continue to belong to one common cone 
of rays, although its figure is more or less changed. It may 
be said that the cones of rays are here reflected undivided, 
although not unchanged. 

It is well known that the surfaces which reflect the cone 
of rays undivided exhibit to us images of objects, or are 
mirrors. If the surface consists of various very small polished 
portions which are known to be separated from one another, 
still each of the little cones of rays which are reflected from 
such portions remains imdivided. On consideration, we re- 
cognize in each of these small polished portions a mirror ; 
but the surface, on the contrary, regarded as a whole, can 
now no longer be so named ; we do not, however, on that 
account deny that it is polished. From each of the polished 
portions the light is reflected, according to the laws of reflec- 
tion of mirrors ; and we may therefore designate this, which is 
usually called regular reflection, by the name of mirror-reflec- 
tion : by which means the object of perception is brouglit 
nearer. Inasmuch, on the other hand, as the rays which fall 
upon the surface are reflected back from the receiving por- 
tions, in all possible directions, the original cone of rays is, 
as far as this happens, dissolved : but it never happens com- 
pletely. This reflection has been justly named the dis- 
persing ; but it would be better designated the dividing^ by 
which means the inattentive would be prevented from con- 
founding this with the extremely difierent scattered reflection 
which is caused by the convex mirror. 

§ 42. The light which reaches our eye by mirror- 
reflection, gives us no notion of the reflected portions, but 
only of the presence of the light, and of the point which 
emits light, when the portions of the surface have a common 
situation suitable to it. By the dividing reflection, we re- 



390 THE NATITRAL PHILOSOPHY OP THE EEAUTIFXTL. 

ceive, on tlie other hand, a knowledge of the reflecting parts 
themselves. 

If there were a surface that merely produced mirror-reflec- 
tion, it would not be seen, in the real sense of the word, 
although we should remark its presence by its mirror-reflec- 
ing action. To the direct sight, it would be as if it were not 
Ihere. But on each mirror-reflecting surface, however per- 
fect it may be, the light sustains also some dividing reflec- 
tion, by which means it becomes the object of real sight. 
On the other hand, there are also no surfaces by which the 
received rays of light exclusively sustain the dividing reflec- 
tion; but we call surfaces bright or dull according as the 
one or the other of the two kinds of reflection produce upon 
us the most remarkable impression. 

§ 43. Just as unequally rapid vibrations in the air awaken 
in us the feeling of unequal tones, so unequally rapid aether- 
vibrations awaken within us difierent sensations of colours. 
The distance between two successive waves, both in the 
aether and in the air, is greater, according as the vibra- 
tion is slower. This distance is called the breadth of the 
waves. 

§ 44. Of all perceptible setherial waves, those which pro- 
duce the sensation of red, possess the greatest width of wave. 
Next to these are those which show only the red-yellow, or 
orange- colour ; after these come, in the following order, those 
which produce the sensation of yellow, green, blue, and violet, 
of which the last has the least breadth of wave. 

It is well known that the directions in which all perceptible 
aether- vibrations act are called rays of light, and according to 
the impression which they produce, we call them red, yellow, 
green, &c., although we attribute no colour to the sether- 
vibrations themselves. But for the sake of brevity, it is very 
convenient to speak of red, yellow, green, and other rays, or 
red, yellow, and green light, if a misunderstanding is only 
prevented.^'- 

§ 45. The light transmitted to us from the sun contains a 
variety of rays of different colours. In as far as these are not 

* Many object to the doctrine here brought forward, because they 
comprehend it as if it would prove that colours w^ere nothing but 
vibrations in the aether, and do not consider that the sensation is some- 
thing quite different from the external means of excitation. See, in the 
sequel, § 69 and § 70. 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAXTTIFITL. 391 

all reflected in the same mutual relation of number as they 
fall upon the surface, we receive the impressions of colour. 
No such change happens in reflection from a mirror, but only 
in the dividing reflection. Upon this depends the relation of 
colours to all surfaces, white and black included. A surface, 
whose rays, coming thi*ough a dividing reflection, all contain 
the same proportionate number of rays of colour as that 
which occurs in sunlight when the reflection happens imme- 
diately in a somewhat copious manner, is in that condition 
which we call white ; if, on the other hand, a very small 
number are reflected, the surface is black. If there were a 
sm-face, where no dividing reflection took place, it would be 
ideally black, and not seen, but only visible to the eye by 
opposition to what sm-rounds it. If there were a surface, 
which by a di\iding reflection restored aU the rays it re- 
ceived, it would be ideally white. 

§ 46. A portion of the rays which the surface has received 
always vanish by the dividing reflection. It is said of these 
vanished rays, that they are absorbed, which, however, is 
only intended as a figurative expression, by which one would 
denote that to the direct impression of the senses they have 
vanished, but which does not declare the mode of action 
which takes place. 

§ 47. When the absorption through a surface does not 
affect all rays of colom- in an equal proportion, but a prepon- 
derance of certain rays remains in the reflected light, a cor- 
responding impression of colours is thence produced ; if most 
of the yellow, orange, green, blue, and violet rays are 
absorbed^ but only a few of the red, the surface is called red. 
Since no surface exclusively reflects one single kind of rays 
of colom's, there is neither a perfect red, orange, yellow, 
green, blue, and violet surface, or a perfectly white or 
black one. 

In the technical language of natural philosophy, neither 
white, which is the oneness of all colours, nor black, which 
is the want of it, are called colours. On the other hand, in 
consequence of the direct impression of the senses, white 
and black, as inequalities in the impression which is pro- 
duced by the dividing reflection, are reckoned among the 
colours. It may sometimes be convenient to use the word in 
this more extensive signification, if no misunderstanding is 
thence caused. 



392 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

§ 48. Materials which, in a very finely divided condition, 
exhibit a marked colour, (the word taken in its widest sig- 
nification, § 47,) are employed for the purpose of covering 
the surfaces of other bodies, and are named, with respect 
to this, pigments. The circumstance that in daily life we 
have called them colours, has given occasion to many mis- 
understandings ; we are too apt to forget, that they only pro- 
duce a sensation for colour, since they absorb a great deal, 
indeed most of the light which is received. Even the white 
pigments only restore a part, although a very important 
2}art, of the received light. 

Although science clearly proves, that pigments only give a 
feeble notion of the actual richness in the colour of light, 
most people still consider them as true colours ; but they are 
by that means diverted from the right point of view, from 
which they ought to comprehend the splendour of colours. 
jSTo thing can contribute more to a correct sense of colours, than 
to become familiar with the development of colours in refrac- 
tions, bondings, polarizations, &c. It is through these mani- 
festations of the inward splendour of light, that we become 
first initiated into the enjoyment of light and colour. 

§ 49. While we consider the effect which colours have upon 
us, we must distinguish between their effects on small surfaces, 
for instance, on flowers, and upon more extended surfaces, as 
on walls of rooms, carpets, dresses. It will be advisable to 
treat, first, of the greater surfaces. We shall occasionally 
feel ourselves called upon to distinguish again between sur- 
faces confined by narrow limits, somewhat larger ones, and 
those which are very large, and widely extended, such as; 
the blue heavens, the green surface of the earth, &;c. 

§ 50. White surfaces transmit to the eye far more light 
than coloured, which are distinguished from the white by 
this, that they absorb most of the rays of colour, and parti- 
cularly because they only reflect one or a few kinds of it. 
White is therefore opposed to all colours in general, as the 
bright is to the dark. Besides the contrast between white 
and coloured surfaces is often diminished by this, that only a 
small preponderance of the distinguishing rays are reflected 
from the coloured surface, so that the wdiite really prevails in 
it, which is also considered a bright colour. 

§ 51. The most complete contrast naturally exists between 
white and black, as it does between light and darkness, which 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 393 

has besides always been acknowledged. The ordinary sense 
of nature has taught man, from time immemorial, to discover 
an indication of innocence and purity in white. The pleasure 
we have in light, the removal of everything strange, the 
equilibrium, and the repose which lies in it, are felt by the 
senses, and recognized by science. 

In the same manner, our sense of nature does not require 
the guidance of science to comprehend black as the colour of 
darkness, as well as that of mourning, since all the joy we 
find in light is excluded from it. Although, at different 
periods, and in different countries, other colours have been 
employed to indicate mourning — for example, the colour of 
the falling leaf — yet black is evidently the one destined by 
natm-e for that purpose. If this is doubted by any one, in 
order to remove his aoubts, he should imagine himself placed 
in a room entirely hung with black; his sense of nature, 
which he cannot throw off, will declare the frame of mind 
which he must arrive at. It is not to be denied, that the 
impressions of memory and habit may also contribute to 
make black seem mournful to us; but that does not make it 
less certain, that, independently of all this, there is a strong 
natural foundation for the impression which we receive from 
black. The use of black in the dress of the clergy might be 
thus explained, that it keeps at a distance all distracting 
thoughts, all the feelings of joy in life which is united to 
details; but, on closer consideration, it leads us to thoughts 
of darkness, as the mother of solemnity, and awakens a sen- 
sation of it. (§ 37.) The use of black dresses, in circum- 
stances when they are meant to indicate nothing, depends 
upon the mere absence of colour. If the thing is viewed on 
this side, it is only recommended, because its use serves to 
render inconspicuous what might not suitably appear in all 
cases where dress is appropriate. It thereby receives a 
certain general utility which real colours do not possess. 
The same universality belongs also to white. But the utility 
of both depends upon different conditions. 

It must be remarked that, with regard to significance, we 
must distinguish between dull black and that w^hich has a 
gloss on it. The fii'st is the real clothing of darkness and 
of mourning, the last receives from its gloss an addition of 
light, by which the melancholy impression is more or less. 
lost. 



394 THE KATITEAL PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 

It is well known, that white is principally employed in the 
dress of women, and particularly for young people. Since 
the dress of men must be exposed to many changes of wea- 
ther, and to a variety of work and occupation, we cannot 
easily use the material which otherwise would recommend 
itself, namely, that which can be easily washed and bleached ; 
it must therefore be black, if it is to possess the requisite 
character of universality. By means of the gloss which we 
are now able to give to woollen materials, the degree of 
melancholy about them. is removed as far as is thought requi- 
site. White, when employed in dress, will not allow of any 
gloss, because without that it has sufficient light, and the 
gloss would therefore dazzle, and would besides make the 
forms less striking to the eye. ^ 

§ 52. The dress of women has a far greater surface, and 
conceals much more of the form than men's dress. It is, 
therefore, easy to understand, why the colour of the dress is 
of much greater importance with women than with men. 
Perhaps this is not the only reason, but if there were no 
other, it would be sufficient to establish a great difference. 

^53. As black is not a colour adapted to the interior of 
houses, unless some particular object is aimed at, so neither 
is white suited to it. It yields too much light. Perfect snow- 
white would be almost unbearable. 

When the earth is covered with snow, we have a great 
surface presented to us, which the eye can hardly endure, 
except under a feeble light, — ^for example, moonlight. The 
dazzling quality of snow is increased still more by its bright- 
ness. 

§ 54. Red is produced by the greatest waves of light. The 
red light which is developed by the prism from the sun-light, 
also yields the greatest amount of heat. Experience shows 
that this light acts strongly upon the eye. Its colom^ is thus, 
according to circumstances, enlivening or disturbing, particu- 
larly the last, on widely extended surfaces. It is well known 
that certain animals are disturbed by this colour. Painters 
have always considered it as a warm colour to the eye. The 
discoveries of modern natural philosophy coincide in the decla- 
ration of this feeling. Mixed with white, as bright red, it 
is cheerful, without this dilution it is gorgeous. The same 
colour may, as Goethe says, be adapted to the gaiety of 
youth and the dignity of age. We have here only treated 



THE NATX7KAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 395 

of actual red. It will appear in its combination Avith other 
colours in what follows.^ 

§ 55, Orange is produced by waves of light of a some- 
what less breadth than those of red. Its actual heat is also 
rather less ; on the other hand, the light of the sun contains 
much more of it, so that the strength of its light is much 
greater. By this means it receives a greater activity, and 
the enlivening as well as the disturbing activity thence 
receives a greater significance, and allows it here to surpass 
the pure red. By different mixtures of red and orange many 
intermediate impressions may of course be produced, in which 
the arousing, the animating, the splendid, the distm'bing, 
more or less prevails. 

§ 56. Yellow again has a still less breadth of waves than 
the two preceding colours, but greater power of light, which 
is proved by measm-ements of light. It is clear, gay, and 
softly exciting. The experience of yellow walls, curtains, 
&c. sufficiently proves this impression. Its effect is more 
especially increased by polishing, which w^e learn from gold 
and by what we remark in shining stuffs. It is as if this 
colour, which produces the most light, were not able to 
exhibit itself in its full splendour without polish. Any con- 
tamination makes it disagreeable to the eye, which is also 
the case with white. 

§ 57. Green stands halfway between the colours as regards 
the breadth of the weaves, the effect of heat, and the power of 
light. This equilibrium gives it a peculiar repose, which 
makes green particularly suitable for a room which is daily 
occupied. 

§ 58. Blue has, again, less breadth of waves, less warmth, 
less power of light, than the preceding colours. When sur- 
rounding us it makes a somewhat cold as well as dark impres- 
sion upon us. But this may, of course, be diminished by the 
mixture of white. 

§ 59. Violet, again, is inferior to blue in breadth of waves, 
in heat, and power of light. It strongly approaches dark- 
ness, and is for the most part very much mixed with white. 
Goethe finds something disturbing in it, but very justly 

* I cite Goethe both here and in what I have further to say on the 
effect of colour, but I essentially differ from him in his theory. It will, 
besides, be quite evident how much I have had to add and to correct by 
the application of Natural Philosophy. 



396 THE IS'ATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

of a different sort from the exciting unquiet of the more 
active rays. It produces the disturbing influence of a want 
of something being missed. 

§ 60. The unequal satisfaction which different people feel 
with the same colour, particularly in what surrounds them 
and in dress, we can easily understand, from the unequal tone 
of the nerves, in consequence of which some are particularly 
delighted with strong impressions, others with softer. Inas- 
much as a person has selected the colour surrounding him 
solely from the impression which colours are accustomed to 
produce upon him, this choice will be connected with many 
of his other inclinations. 

§ 61. Besides the impression which we receive from 
colours in consequence of their direct relations with light, 
there are others which are founded on their indirect relations. 

Among these, those deserve particular attention which 
arise from such popular notions (associations of ideas) which 
connect the thought of a certain colour with the impression 
of strongly coloured objects in nature. They have a far 
greater significance than those combined notions which arise 
from many arbitrary determinations of social life. 

Red reminds us of blood, which is one of the great 
sources of life in our bodies. Where its colour shines 
through the surface of the body, it shows health and strength 
of life. The exceptions which are conveyed by an unhealthy 
predominance of this colour do not prevent us from recog- 
nizing this principal impression. Among those races where 
the colour of the skin is black, and where, consequently, the 
relation between the colour of the skin and the colour of the 
blood is not so easily recognized, the apprehension of this 
subject must be different. 

The same may be applied to many peculiar colours of the 
skin, in whole races of people ; so that the intuitive percep- 
tion here mentioned may belong in its totality to the whole 
Caucasian race. Orange reminds us of fire, green of the 
fields and woods, and thence of the firm surface of the earth 
contrasted with the sea. Blue reminds us of the sky, and 
not so essentially of the sea, which only receives its colour 
by reflection from the sky. It also reminds us of distance. 
Goethe says that blue is a stimulating negation. We learn 
from natural science that blue, united with violet, is reflected 
back every time that light passes through a less occupied 



I 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 397 

space, namely, a vacuum. That expression of Goethe's is, 
therefore, very well adapted to the nature of the thing, and 
to the recollections of nature which are called forth in us. 
Violet and blue also indicate darkness, since they are the 
colours containing the least light, and the pigments which 
they represent are easiest converted into black. 

The symbolical meaning which is attributed to certain 
colours is also founded on nature, although more remotely, 
and not in all parts with equal foundation. We have spoken 
already, in § 50 and § 51, of white being the colour of inno- 
cence, and black of mourning. Their symbolical signification 
is most apparently founded on nature. Red, as a symbol of 
love, has probably received its meaning from the colour of 
the blood, with which is united our ideas of the heart, of 
heat, and of the intensity of life. Yellow is said to denote 
falsehood, for which I cannot so easily find a satisfactory 
reason, except that it indicates the deceitfulness of that which 
shines, which may also be justified by the facility with which 
yellow, when it departs from its purity, becomes disagreeable. 
That green should indicate hope, seems founded on the pro- 
mising green of spring ; if we only considered the satisfaction 
with which the eye can, as it were, rest upon it, we should 
rather call it the colour of trust : blue is called the colour of 
fidelity; but since faith, hope, and love are so frequently 
named together, and since each of the two last mentioned has 
its sj^mbolical colour, it appears to me that we must also 
assume that one of the colours must likewise be applied to 
this noble quality. It is sufiiciently evident that blue, since 
it indicates distance, vacuity from matter, therefore the im- 
material, is suitable for a symbol of faith ; but this appre- 
hension is first properly introduced into the circle of our 
perception, when it is seen in the colour of the sky, and the 
thoughts of it first leads us away from the earthly. It is 
besides certain that faith and constancy are also denoted by 
blue, and we may have been led to think so by the repose 
in blue (§ 58), and by the feeling, that of all colours it 
is the least splendid, with the exception of violet, which, 
if we really speak of the actual violet of light, and do 
not confound it with a mixture of colours which contains 
more red in it than this, is such a feeble light, and has in 
consequence so little power, that when we speak of colours it 
is not much considered, and is seldom used. I believe, how- 



398 THE NATIJBAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

ever, tliat many who have a delicate sense for colour, would 
agree in calling it the colour of earnest longing. 

§ 62. Goethe says, that through a blue glass we see every- 
thing in a mournful light, and through red glass in a fearful 
light ; but this assertion must be understood in a very limited 
sense. Through a blue glass, we see faces, trees, red roofs, 
&c., in a mournful light; because the red, yellow, and green 
light is almost taken away by the blue glass, so that the eye 
neither receives the preponderance of rays of colour which 
are contained in the light in order that the objects may pro- 
portionately send back their colour, nor the red, j^ellow, and 
green rays of colour which are contained in the unmixed 
light, that they reflect. We therefore behold the objects in 
an unnatural and feeble light ; but that does not occur when 
we see blue objects through blue glass, such as the sky and 
the sea. The same method of observation may be applied to 
the view we obtain through other coloured glasses ; for ex- 
ample, through red. Heaven and earth appear as if they 
were all on fire. This impression becomes still more terrible, 
because the red illumination being both very active and 
reflected from great surfaces, is disquieting ; but if through 
such glasses we see objects which ought to be red, as the 
countenances of men, the impression is often cheerful and 
enlivening. 

§ 63. It has been proved by numerous experiments, that 
certain rays of colour form, in their combination, white. The 
accompanying figure will best illustrate which these are. 

By the letters in this figure, the colours 
are thus marked: r, red; o, orange; y, 
yellow ; gr^ green ; 5, blue ; v, violet. 
Two colours, which are opposite one 
another, complete each other in white : 
Red and green, orange and blue, yellow 
and violet. Now our perception of colour 
recognizes each of such pairs of comple- 
mental colours to be harmonious colours, which constitute a 
totality of light, and with it a harmony of colours. Goethe 
has treated this very successfully. 

§ 64. Two colours, between which there is only one inter- 
mediate colour, constitute, according to Goethe, characteristic 
combinations of colour ; for example, red and yellow, yellow 
and blue, blue and red. He mentions that these combina- 




THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 399 

tions are on that account made use of in uniforms. But this 
does not appear to be the only reason ; for orange and green, 
green and violet, violet and orange, are not easily so em- 
ployed, although green is used in uniforms. But we may 
here remark, that this green is almost always dark, and ap- 
proaches blue. Besides, it appears that the size and division 
of the surface must be also taken into consideration; for 
yellow for the coat, and red and blue for the lower garments, 
do not meet with approbation. Besides the size and division 
of the surface, the strength of light, and the gloss, must also 
be taken into consideration. 

§ 65. The juxtaposition of neighbouring colours does not 
make an agreeable impression upon us, unless particular 
conditions are added. Goethe says that green with yellow 
has something ordinary in it, but in a cheerful sense ; green 
with blue is ordinary in a repulsive sense. This can only be 
granted, and is also hardly understood in a more extensive 
meaning than in the case where colours are unmixed, and 
when they are about equally strong, and occupy equal space. 
Some examples will warn us against too exaggerated an ap- 
plication of this axiom, and at the same time show what a 
variety of conditions must also be here considered. The 
blue of the sky, seen through the green tops of the trees, 
always produces a joyful impression. It undoubtedly ap- 
pears most beautiful when the leaves are turning rather 
yellow, so that the green colour of the leaf is not so close to 
the blue of the sky, which in some degree approaches to the 
violet ; but even when the green of the leaves changes into 
blue-green, there is beauty in the impression. This undoubt- 
edly proceeds from the preponderating force of light in the 
blue of the sky. The pleasure we have in light itself must 
have an important share in it, since, while we are under the 
branches of the tree, we are in a shade, which enlivens the 
light of the sky. 

The little blue flower of the '^ Forget me not," attracts the 

eye in the midst of the green surrounding it. Here the 

smallness of the surface, the clear light of the colour, and its 

distribution upon a beautifully formed flower, appear to have 

» a great share in the favourable impression ; but so far is 

. certain, that the juxtaposition of the blue with the green 

. has no unfavourable influence here. Every one w^ill easily, 

. from his own experience, recall various examples both of blue 



400 THE NATUHAL PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 

and yellow flowers, surrounded by green, which afford enjoy- 
ment to the eye. I wull now make an observation which 
I have not yet had an opportunity to submit to proper reflec- 
tion, but which is, however, founded upon the joint impres- 
sion of my daily experiences ; namely, that green when placed 
next to the most richly coloured flowers, and, if I am not 
mistaken, especially next to yellow and blue, is very far 
removed from pure green, so that it may be said to contain 
very little actual green. Besides, the flower often has a great 
deal of gloss upon it, and it not unfrequently happens that 
the power of light and colour is weakened in the stalk and 
leaves by their being clothed with a hairy covering. 

I venture to add one more observation, w^hich Natural 
Science has hardly yet enabled us circumstantially to prove, 
but which appears to m.e to possess a great inward proba- 
bility; namely, that the opposition which always arises by the 
separation of matter, might also be expressed in the opposition 
of colours. Consequently, in the instance here mentioned, 
the separation of those materials, by which certain combina- 
tions are formed w^hich belong to the petals, and of others 
which are retained in the stalk and in the leaves, produce 
the opposition. It may certainly be alleged against this 
supposition, that the chemical separations which are here 
intended, do not only consist in a separation of the matter 
within the limits of the plant, but also in the abstraction 
of certain materials in the surrounding air; but even with 
respect to this, there appears to be an opposition between the 
green and the coloured surfaces. 

The application of the theory of beauty to the vegetable 
kingdom, and especially to flowers, w411 certainly give rise to 
a new development and more accurate determinations of 
many parts of the universal theory of beauty. The juxta- 
position of the difierent figures of leaves, of petals and the 
parts of fructification, the various differences which arise 
from the variety of colours, and from the marks of colour in 
many flowers, in the petals and parts of fructification ; the 
various conditions of the surfaces, of which a shining surface 
has already been mentioned, but among which many must 
still be cited, for example, those with a velvet surface; the 
relative distance in which flowers and leaves are placed with 
what surrounds them. But all this must be taken into consi- 
deration along with much which has not been yet thought of 



~1 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 401 

§ 66. The opposition of light and darkness is apparent in 
many waj^s in the juxtaposition of colours. Flowers with 
strong light colours, for example, yellow, are especially 
adapted for stuffs ^yith a dark ground; upon a light ground, 
on the contrary, feebly light colours are the best, for example, 
blue. Eed flowers are as well adapted for a dark ground as 
for a light, because this colour has a middle degree of the 
power of light, and also prevails on account of the size of its 
vibrations. 

§ 67. The great influence of a shining surface in the rela- 
tions of beauty has certainly been often mentioned in the 
preceding passages, but with only a few^ applications. Bright- 
ness forms an important part in the impressions which \ye 
receive from all nature. The blue of the sky would not produce 
the same impression upon us, if its brightness were Avanting. 
The brightness of w^ater, contrasted with the feeble light of 
the surface of the earth, contributes to enliven the landscape 
in an extraordinary manner, as is well known, so that the 
waters have been called the eyes of landscapes, to which 
notion we are justly led by our lively impression of the bright- 
ness of the eye. Every one must have observed the delight- 
ful impression of beauty w^hich w^e receive from the reflection 
of objects in a quiet surface of waiter. Besides other things 
which contribute to make this image so attractive, its bright- 
ness has a great influence. The smooth sm-face of water, 
which reflects a great portion of the light of the sky, covers 
the painting which is exhibited to us with its brightness in a 
more vivid manner than the most beautiful varnish could do. 
The various alternations in the brightness of the water (which 
is at the same time influenced by colour) also deserve notice. 
It is well known that on a day in which the sky is blue, the 
water is so also, since it reflects the light of the sky. But if 
we turn our eyes upon those parts of the expanse of w^ater 
which are very distant from us, and from w^hich we conse- 
quently receive the reflected light at very acute angles, we 
shall find that the brightness is much stronger here, for the 
smaller the angle of incidence, the larger are the number of 
incident rays reflected. By this means the brightness increases 
in intensity till it resembles metal, and since but little of the 
blue of the sky is mixed up with it, it has a really silvery 
brightness. This efiect is produced to a still greater degree 
by the direct light of the sun by day, or the direct light of 

2d 



402 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 

the moon at night. Painters seldom fail in their repre- 
sentations of this condition of nature, which they learn by 
acute observation ; but a poet might perceive the same thing, 
were he to sit beside a brook, and look down into the silver 
-waves. 

It need hardly be repeated that the brightness of the 
evening and the morning red, of the rainbow, and many such 
phenomena of the air, constitute a part of their beauty. In 
all cases, where the brightness is stronger than the eye can 
conveniently bear, it is well-known that it will become 
dazzling, and by its incongruity with the rest of the power 
of apprehension, disturbing to the impression of beauty. 

§ 68. We have here considered the effect of light and 
colour in the various relations in which they externally appear 
tons. Since these effects also occur in our own organs of 
sense, it appears that, in order to understand them, it would 
be best to turn our attention upon ourselves. Neither must 
this be delayed; though the changes which take place in our 
own organs of sense possess only a small share of the distinct- 
ness which is requisite to arrive at some insight. On the 
contrary, we must treat our own eye as if it were something 
external to us ; for example, from the dissection of the human 
eye we must learn to know its wonderful structure, and by our 
investigations into the general laws of the motion of light, 
the laws of refraction, and its capability to form pictures, we 
must inquire into the laws of the external world by which sight 
is made intelligible to us. This has been confirmed by an. 
extensive scientific experience, and we ought not to be misled 
by the circumstance that one remarkable mind, Goethe, was 
of opinion that the usual path of science in the treatment of • 
the doctrine of light, conducts on a false track. But now 
that we have observed the effects of light, where they best 
reveal their nature to us, we may again return to ourselves 
with the profit we have obtained from the external world. 
Both considerations must be regarded separately, because we 
cannot employ them together, but we must never forget that 
they both belong to one whole, in which the external and 
the internal are no longer separated. 

§ 69. Anything which influences the nerve of the eye, even 
a pressure, a blow, a direct mechanical touch, produces a 
sensation of light, and with it a sensation of colour, but no 
other sensation; whereas we cannot produce a sensation of 



THE XATUKAL PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 403 

light, by influencing any nerve ^vhich is not connected ^vitli 
the nerve of sight. Therefore, the aether-waves act npon our 
nerves of sight, similar to other mechanical forces, but they 
are the only ones able to awaken a sensation of light, which 
is capable of communicating to us a knowledge of the 
external world. The eye is not. however, here subject to 
different conditions than the other organs of the senses ; for, 
in perfect accordance with it, the forces which act upon the 
nerves of hearing, produce only sensations of tones, those 
acting on the nerves of smell, only sensations of smell, and 
so on. 

§ 70, This reference to the mechanical view of the action 
of light, ought not, however, to induce us to overlook much 
more that it contains, and wliich is requisite for a perception 
of the impression of the senses in it^ totality. This impres- 
sion consists naturally of two principal active forces, the 
sether-waves and the capacity of our senses, and is the united 
effect of both. But many others lie concealed in these two 
principal activities. 

A thick veil is thrown over the action of the nerves of 
the senses; but we know rather more of the action of the 
\raves of light; and this knowledge is such that it permits 
us to guess something about the action of the nerve of 
sight. \\e know from experiments, that light produces a 
change on every sm-face upon which it creates pictures; 
so that a disposition, or tendency, to re-create the same 
picture, after the light has ceased to act, is stiR retained for 
a certain time, and can be made perceptible by a certain 
condensation of steam. In the nerve of sight a similar 
'creation of a picture takes place, of whose duration we are 
instructed by the sense itself. If we do not limit our idea of 
chemical action merely to apparent combinations or separa- 
tions of materials, but if we ascribe to it all inward changes 
of condition, we thence learn, that in the creation of the 
picture, a chemical action must be produced on the nerve of 
sight. But even if we did not allow it this name, we cannot 
deny that such a change in the condition of the surface is 
very important, and is accompanied in the sm-faces of inani- 
mate bodies by concealed electric and magnetic circidations. 
We can scarcely divest oui'selves of the idea, that something 
similar takes place in the nerve of sight itself. In short, in 

2 B 2 



404 THE ^'ATL'RAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

the sensation of sight, the combined forces of the world 
express themselves, however hidden and secret they may be. 

In all that we learn from science about the sensation of 
feeling, we shall only henceforth bring forward that which 
is most nearly connected with the comprehension of the 
Beautiful. 

§ 71. In the same manner as each effect requires time to 
be produced and time to vanish, so it is also with the sensations 
of sight. However quickly these may come and vanish, never- 
theless we have decided experiences concerning them. Every 
impression is succeeded by an endeavour after an opposite 
sensation : after a sensation of light, a sensation of darkness ; 
after a sensation of red there follows the complemental colour 
(§ 60), green, and inversely after the sensation of green 
there follows red, and so on. These changes are usually 
too feeble to be remarked, but we perceive them when we 
try stronger impressions, and exclude other effects of light 
which might alter the relations. In experiments with strong 
white light, several developments of colour occur, which must 
be omitted here. 

§ 72. We can more easily convince ourselves of similar 
effects by experiments on illuminated white and coloured 
objects. If we look at a strongly illuminated white figure 
upon a dark ground, and then turn our eye upon a white 
surface, we see upon it the image of the same figure, but 
darker than the rest of the surface. If the experiment is 
made with a dark figure upon a light ground, the image 
upon the white surface appears lighter than it. This last 
case does not essentially differ from the first, for the ground 
creates the image just as much in the eye as the figure, and • 
they only assume different places in the two experiments. If 
the same experiment is made with coloured figures, we see 
likewise, when we turn our eye upon the white ground, the 
same figure but with complemental colours. Thus the coun- 
terfeit of a red figure is green, of a green figure red, &c. || 

§ 73. If w3 look for a long time at a coloured picture upon ll 
a white ground, we shall see it cover itself with the comple- ' 
mental colours. It has not been yet ascertained whether the 
reason of this is, that there is really produced on the retina 
of the eye a sensation of complemental colours, externally 
round the picture of the object, or whether the eye, which is 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 405 

never perfectly still, causes some part of the retina of the 
"eye, which formerly received the picture, now to receive the 
impression from the ground. 

The condition here treated of is not without its prac- 
tical importance. If we desire to imitate a pattern or a 
painting by embroidery or weaving, and if we select the 
•coloured threads without regard to the influence which their 
juxtaposition exercises upon the impression, we shall see, 
-when the work is completed, that we have been deceived. 
"We must, therefore, with reference to this, make previous 
experiments. 

§ 74. But from all this we perceive that the nature of the 
eye itself conveys with it the development of harmonious 
colours. This could not also be otherwise, for if it contains 
the whole capacity of developing light, each development of 
of light and colour requires its opposite. But the method of 
proceeding in natural science does not allow us to build upon 
such proofs, but to represent truth in a series of perceptions, 
of which, besides, only some few have been here brought 
forward as examples. 

It will now be instructive to reconsider the relations which 
are represented in § 63 — § 65. 

When two complemental colours are placed beside one 
another, they will strengthen each other ; the red, for ex- 
ample, placed next to the green, will become a deeper red, 
and the green at the same time a stronger green. It thus 
happens that the harmony of colours is realized to our feel- 
ings, which is already determined by this, that the comple- 
mental colours constitute a totality of colour. 

In the juxtaposition of colours, which we have called the 
•characteristic combinations, the reciprocal effect produces 
some additional force and alteration. In order to make this 
apparent, we will exhibit the characteristic colours in paii's, 
and that colour shall be placed under each which calls forth 
the feeling of the other. 

Yellow — Blue 1 Red — Yellow I Red -~ Blue 

Orange — Violet | Violet — Green | Orange — Green. 

■ If, on the contrary, we place together the neighbouring colours, 
'a completely different relation is produced ; for example :— 

Yellow — Green 1 Green — Blue 

Red — Violet Orange — Red. 



406 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

We see, in tlie last case, that to one colour in each pair an 
entirely new colour is added, whereas in the first case it is a 
colour which contains something of its own. 

It also here appears how the idea that the complemental 
colours must form a harmony, because they constitute a 
totality of colours, is realized to the feelings, not through an 
accidental combination, but from the necessary harmony which 
is the consequence of common fundamental laws. 

§ 75. It is sufficiently known by daily experience how 
much colours serve to embeUish the surface of things. So far 
as this embellishment only consists in an arbitrary application 
of colours, the effect of it must depend merely upon the 
general laws of the relations of colours. In natural produc- 
tions, whether they are minerals, plants, or animals, the 
colours are undoubtedly determined by laws, according to 
which they are dependent partly on the pecuHar nature of 
the object, partly on its relation to the external world. These 
laws will undoubtedly long remain an object of investigation 
for future times. Our knowledge concerning them is still 
too scattered and disconnected to make any use of it in the 
natural philosophy of the Beautiful, whereas there are cases 
where form and colour may be perfectly comprehended by us 
as the production of the same natural action ; from these 
observations we may already learn something. 

§ 76. The Rainbow belongs to such forms. It is not part 
of the design of this representation, to repeat here the well 
known theory of the rainbow ; it may justly be assumed as 
known. We learn from this theory, that the form of an arch 
is the necessary consequence of those laws by which the light 
is refracted and reflected in the drops of rain. But by the 
same natural action by which this arch is formed, the rays of 
colour which the white light contains are separated, and a 
harmony of colours is developed, in which all the colours of 
sunlight appear before us, both in their separation, which is 
accompanied by the division in space, as well as in their 
totality, which they have retained from their source. But the 
whole contents of the perception are here by no means ex- 
hausted. The contrast between the dark wall of rain and the 
clear arch, immediately awakens the peculiar pleasure we 
derive, from light, heightened by the conquering splendour 
which the light here unfolds in its struggle with darkness, the 
benevolent powers against the destroying powers. It is a 



THE ^'ATU^vAL THILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFirL. 407 

natural idea apparent to the mind, in which the palpably- 
evident and substantial is excluded. In the northern legends 
of the gods, it is imagined to be a bridge between heaven and 
eai'th. 

§ 77. Among the remarkable combinations of form and 
colour, also belong many of those which are produced by the 
reciprocal effect of the rays of light upon one another, which 
we may call their reciprocal encroachment, and which, by 
the English expression formed from tlxe Latin root, has 
been designated Interference. This effect is only recognizable 
where rays meet which proceed from a luminous body of 
very small extent, for otherwise the effect which certain rays 
produce is destroyed by rays which proceed from other points. 
The effect produced by reciprocal encroachment proceeds 
from this, that those waves of light which meet in such a 
manner that their similar vibrations fall in the same portion 
of space, strengthen one another; whereas when opposite 
vibrations meet together their reciprocal effect is destroyed. 
Since the different rays of colour have unequal breadth of 
waves, so also the strengthening and darkening of the light 
will not happen to all in the same point of space. This is 
not the place to develope the whole of this doctrine ; it 
must suffice to recount, as the result of science, that we 
are able to calculate exactly upon every failure in experi- 
ments. Some examples will explain this union between 
' form and colour. 

§ 78. If we allow the light which comes from a very small 
luminous body, for example, through a burning glass, or 
rather from the image of the sun which is produced by a still 
smaller collector of the rays, to pass through small openings 
lying close together in any thin metal plate, the cone of rays 
which have thence arisen will meet upon their continued 
path, and in some parts of the space strengthen their reci- 
procal action of light, in others destroy it. Hence there 
arises a multitude of bright and dark spots, which are cer- 
tainly not connected, but they have a regularly arranged 
invrard position, often a great variety of symmetrically- 
divided forms, and, besides, splendid and symmetrically- 
di^dded colours. 

In order to make a short survey of what has been just said, 
it will be best first to turn our attention away from the 
colours. We may in reality make the experiment so that no 



408 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

development of colours takes place. To do this it is only 
necessary to choose light of a simple colour; for example, 
light which has passed through red glass. 

One of the simplest instances is attained, by which there 
arises a great variety of forms, if we allow this simple light 
to pass through three very small holes in a thin metal plate, 
placed before the opening of a particularly good telescope, 
which, however, in order to observe the effect, need not be 
of very great magnifying power. We should then see an 
image in whose centre there is a powerfully red circle 
smTOunded by six others much less bright, which have cer- 
tain regular deviations from the circular form. Beyond these 
there are at different distances other spots, still more deviat- 
ing from the circular form, with a different strength of light, 
which are also regulated according to the laws of symmetry. 
The ground is black. An architect who saw the colourless 
drawing of this image, said that if it were made upon a con- 
vex surface, we should pronounce it a decoration conceived 
with great originality. 

§ 79. If the experiment is now undertaken with colourless 
light, every kind of coloured light which is contained therein 
would by means of its unequal breadth of wave change the 
position of each of the spots formed by it ; the violet would 
fall nearest the centre, the blue somewhat farther from it, 
and so on, green, yellow, orange, red. Still the difference is 
not so great that they entirely separate from one another; 
on the contrary, they will principally fall upon one another, 
and thus form the most beautiful distribution of colours ; so 
that we either see in every spot the colours of the rainbow in 
perfect separation, with the violet side everywhere nearest 
the centre, and thus the red next the circumference, or the 
mixture of colours which is formed by the one encountering 
the other. 

If we allow the light to pass through a plate with four 
openings which stand at the same distance from one another 
as the points of the angles in a square, we likewise receive 
an image compounded of symmetrical spots, but of which 
two systems which are more distinct than the others cut 
each other, and form a cross. The splendour of the colours 
in this cross is great ; in the intervening parts, on the con- 
trary, the intensity of the light is smaller, but it is symmetri- 
cally distributed. 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 409 

If there are many small square holes in the plate placed 
very near each other, there arise several systems of bands 
which form a whole combination. Exactly before the holes, 
we see a series of small square. spots of light, the centre 
one white, the others with symmetrical colours. Next to 
this series we see a system of bands, w^hich run narrower 
towards the centre of the series, and in which the violet light 
appears in the narrow part, which is nearest the centre, upon 
which follow the other colours according to the breadth of their 
waves. After this system of bands there follows a darker 
interval, and upon it another, less broad, formed of longer, 
but fewer, and therefore broad bands. Upon this there fol- 
lows again, after dark intervals, a new system of far fewer 
imd broader stripes than those just preceding. The system 
which follows upon this, according to the same law, is 
separated by no dark interval, but falls with its narrower 
-end into the broader one of the preceding system, and thus 
t^^'o more still follow, of which the one before the last is the 
longest of all. 

In similar ways we can produce many combinations, iu 
which that which is conformable to law is immediately felt 
-by the senses, and not merely, indeed, by the distribution 
of forms, but also by that of colours. In most cases the 
•colours which thus appear are splendid and piercing, but at 
the same time they are excellently suited to those transitions 
which are satisfactory to the eye. I believe that those who 
would desire to paint in the style of Pompeii, would do well 
to study the conditions of colour treated about here, and 
not merely to make the thoughts but the eye familiar with 
them. 

§ 80. We may derive the same advantage from the colours 
which are developed by polarized light, when this is exposed 
under certain conditions to double-refracting crystals, or 
bodies in which a peculiar extension preponderates. To give 
11 somewhat complete representation of this remarkable theory 
would lead us too far from our real aim, but a short sketch of 
the nature of polarization will enable us to give a compre- 
hensive representation of that upon which it depends. The 
^ther-waves by which light is produced, are so constituted 
that the vibrations happen at right angles to the rays. Let 
'US, for example, direct our thoughts upon a cone of rays 



410 THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE EEAUTIPUL. 

whicli proceeds from a point in the sky, and passes down 
perpendicularly to tlie earth, the vibrations in its sether-waves 
would all be parallel to the horizon, but in this plane, they 
may have all possible directions. Now if a crystal, which is 
capable of polarizing light, but in the most simple form, be 
placed across these rays (for example, Icelandic calcareous 
spar), the vibrations will be all so arranged that one half 
passes in one direction, the other half in that which is at right 
angles with it; so that if the crystal were so placed that some 
vibrations happened alternately from north to south, and 
from south to north, the others would take place alternately 
-from east to west, and from west to east. The two kinds of 
polarized rays are at once separated from one another by 
an unequal refraction. It wiU now be intelligible, when it 
is said that the rays have received a definite polarization, 
w^hen they are brought into such a condition that all their 
vibrations happen in one plane. We must not here con- 
fuse the ideas which we have formed of polarization with 
those which we know of magnetic effects. The use which 
Jias been made of this word in the theory of light, is really 
entirely at variance with polarization, and is not a happy 
w^ord, though it has now been authorized by long application. 
Light is also polarized by reflection under certain angles, 
and equally so through refraction. The rays which are com- 
pletely polarized by refraction have their planes of vibration 
at right angles with the plane of vibration of those which are 
polarized by reflection. 

When the vibrations of polarized rays are parallel with 
the surface of a transparent body, and stand at right angles 
to their plane of incidence, we can always find a certain 
angle of incidence, under which all the rays are reflected, and 
none pass through. If the plane of their vibration is, on the 
contrary, the same with the plane of incidence, and the 
direction of the vibrations therefore crosses the reflecting 
surface, they will all pass through under the same angle of 
incidence, and therefore none will be reflected. 

There are other more involved conditions of polarization 
besides those which we have just treated of, that have here 
been omitted, which may, however, be all referred to the 
fundamental relations that have been explained."^' 

* Those who are acquainted with the doctrine of the polarization 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE EEAUTIEUL. 411 

§ 81. By reflections and refractions the planes of Yibration 
of polarized rays. ^Yith the exception of certain cases which 
are deteiTQined by the natiu-e of the thing, suffer bendings and 
separations, and may arriYC again at recombinations. If we 
consider the example giYen at § 80, we may say that rays in 
which the Yibrations formerly passed from north to south, 
and from south to north, may afterwards be placed in such a 
condition that, for example, some Yibrations occur from 
north-east to south-west, and from south-west to north-east ; 
while some take place in the plane at right angles with it, 
between north-west and south-east. The separation of the 
directions of the Yibrations always happens in such a manner 
that the two new planes of Yibrations stand at right angles 
with one another. 

• A number of cases occur in different reflections and cur- 
rents where rays which haYe proceeded from one point, and 
haYe accordingly receiYcd a common polarization, suffer such 
changes in their continued path, that when they are after- 
wards brought into the same plane of Yibrations they still 
vibrate in opposite dii-ections, when they pass through 
similar paths ; and, on the other hand, Yibrate in the same 
dii'ection, when their paths have a difference in length of 
1, 3, 5, or scYcral unequal multiples of a half breadth of 
waYe. From this relatiYe condition it follows that the rays 
which ought to haYe strengthcDed one another, if they had 
not suffered these changes in their planes of bendings, now 
mutually destroy their effects, and that, iuYersely, those which 
otherwise would have reciprocally destroyed their effects, 
now strengthen them. It would be impossible to dcYelope 

of light will perceive, that, in order to make the representation more 
intelligible, I have turned the whole attention upon the planes of vibra- 
tion, and I have avoided speaking of the planes of polarization, which 
are at right angles to them. 

The sunlight which is reflected to us by the sky when it is clear^ is 
also polarized, and certdnly in different ways. The light which is 
reflected from that part of the sky which is exactly opposite the sun, 
vibrates parallel with the horizon ; that light, on the contrary, which 
comes from situations which lie 90^ on both sides of it, vibrates at right 
angles with it. Hence it foUows, that the portion of the sky which is 
about 90^ from the sun reflects itself imperfectly, and illuminates the 
water less than the remaining pcU*t, particularly if the angle luider which 
we behold the illuminated water is between 30 and 40 degrees. 



412 THE KATUKAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

this circumstantially here, without bringing forward a very 
extensive portion of the doctrine of light; to which whoever 
wishes to penetrate this subject must be referred : but we 
must keep ourselves to the result, that rays which have pro- 
ceeded from one point and suffer no perceptible separation, 
may receive opposite qualities merely by the turn of the 
plane of their vibrations, which is exhibited in this, that 
those colours which are developed in these changes out of 
the white light, receive, by the reciprocal encroachment of the 
rays (§ 77), this remarkable inequality, that the colour which 
exhibits one kind of these rays is the complemental colour of 
that which exhibits the other ; if, for example, the one pro- 
duces red, the other will produce green. 

§ 82. From all the relations mentioned here (§ 80, §81), 
which will require some trouble to be familiarly acquainted 
with, but which, once understood, are sufficiently compre- 
hensible, the various forms of light and colour are ex- 
plained, which are produced by certain crystals and other 
transparent bodies within which certain extensions of direc- 
tion prevail. By particular reflections and currents, in 
consequence of the laws of polarization, certain rays, which 
have a symmetrical position relative to each other, are 
stopped; whereas, in all other points, colours are developed 
which constitute the comj^lement with one another, and are 
therefore harmonious among themselves. The symmetrical 
forms which are thus developed are for the most part unim- 
portant, but the colours are often splendid, and have always 
a harmony founded in the nature of the thing. 

§ 83. In consequence of the similarity which we find be- 
tween the production of light and of sound, it is supposed by 
some that a Colour-music may yet be discovered. But the 
similarity has been considered here in a more one-sided point 
of view than it ought to be. The relation of time which is 
so prominent in tones, is very much hidden in the actions of 
light, in which, on the other hand, the relations of space are 
so important. Besides, the eye is strongly excited by lively 
changes of light and colour which quickly succeed one 
another. Dull colours, like those which are reflected from 
coloured surfaces, will, on the other hand, exercise an unim- 
portant effect. If it were desirable to produce anything 
which should resemble a Light-music it would be necessary 



THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 413 



to select darkness for the performance. Light-music by day- 
light would be like Tone-music amidst a great noise. The 
only Light-music which we know are fireworks, which possess 
a certain kind of beauty, and might perhaps be brouglit 
to a still greater degree of beauty; but we ought not to 
expect that an art can be developed from it which can be 
compared to music. 



414 



ON THE UNBEAUTIFUL IN NATURE, 



IN ITS RELATION TO THE 



HARMONY OF BEAUTY IN THE WHOLE. 



The following communication is extracted from the reports of the 
Society of Sciences at Copenhagen, and originated from some observa- 
tions on the above-mentioned subject^ which the author had delivered to 
the members of that Society. He there began with saying, that although 
he had often reflected on this subject, he yet felt how far he was from 
having solved all its difficulties ; but he was chiefly impelled to com- 
municate his own views by a wish to hear the remarks of his fellow- 
members, and after that, those of other men who were learned on the 
subject. The communication occasioned discussions, which have not 
failed to influence the representation as it is here exhibited ; for some 
objections showed the author that on certain points he had not sufficiently 
developed his views ; and by some remarks in support of his opinions, 
he w^as, on the other side, enabled to express himself, at least on one 
point, with greater confidence. He also thinks he must first apologise, 
because, in order to maintain the observations which had a direct reference 
to the subjects under consideration, he has enlarged upon some things 
which are not in immediate connection with them. 



In the dialogue on Tones the fundamental doctrine is upheld 
and afterwards carried out in various directions, that we 
receive impressions of beauty from that which is reasonable 
in things, yet not in such a manner that we comprehend it 
by thought as reasonable, but because our inner sense, in 
conformity with its own reason, feels a satisfaction in the 
reasonable. 

It might at first sight appear that it must follow from this 
doctrine, that everything in conformity with reason is beau- 
tiful ; but the answer to this is, that our inner sense is only 
able to grasp the impression of the most simple thought. 
The limit to this is not fixed, but, on the contrary, may very 
easily be altered. All are aware that the sense of the beau- 
tiful, as well as the external senses, has a different degree of 



THE UNBEAUTIFUL IN NATURE. 415 

aeutencss in different people, and that it may also be rendered 
more acute in each individual by practice in the power of 
observation, and by the imitation of beautiful objects ; but 
that the influence of the mind is able to develop this inner 
sense, is a truth of which perhaps we cannot so well say that 
it has been doubted, as that it has been too little employed 
to enable us understand the theory of beauty. A few exam- 
ples will place this in the clearest light. It is well known 
by experience, that men whose business requires them to 
make frequent measurements, and to meditate on them, 
thereby acquire a facility in the instantaneous determination 
of magnitudes and their relations, without the necessit}^ of 
previous reflection. That which previously had been gained 
. by reflection has now become direct knowledge. Those 
whose minds have been much engaged in the use of figures 
thereby attain similar readiness in the direct discovery of 
numerous relations of figures, v/hich can only be grasped by 
others after long reflection. Although the examples I have 
selected, from their being so well Ivnown, refer to many things 
which do not belong to the comprehension of beauty, they 
are yet not entirely foreign to it ; for the proportions of 
measurement are one of the elements of the beautiful. 

In innumerable cases we form an image of things in our 
inner sense, of w^hich we have never received a direct impres- 
sion from the senses. Long before it had been discovered 
how to represent countries upon maps, men who had made 
travels of observation invented for themselves a picture of 
the country over which they had travelled, and communicated 
it to others. This picture did not then originate in such men 
from mere perceptions of the senses ; the distances, for 
•instance, were frequently determined by different circum- 
, 'Stances; for example, from the time spent on certain journeys 
compared with the difficulties which had been surmounted. 
'The extent and height of mountains, the course of rivers, the 
size and form of the coasts, could have been as little gained, 
exclusively, from direct perception of the senses, or even 
from the description of others, but must have been obtained 
by inquiries in various directions. This picture, however, 
created by the active forces of both sense and mind, now stood 
forth in the intuitive perception of man, and he was enabled by 
speech to avraken the same picture in others. The delinea- 
tions of countries which are made in our times, are the result 



416 THE UNBEAUTIFUL IN NATURE. 

of innumerable measurements and calculations ; so that the 
picture of a country that we obtain by the assistance of a 
map proceeds from a union of the perception of the senses, 
and activity of thought. If it is still asserted that he who 
now contemplates a map, only receives the image by the aid 
of a direct perception, it mxust still be granted that he who first 
drew a map was not similarly circumstanced. Besides, it is 
very evident that he who merely receives the direct impres- 
sion by the senses of the map of a country, and whose con- 
templation of the map is not accompanied by much know- 
ledge acquired by thought, and who does not besides inquire 
any farther about the matter, will obtain but a very poor 
picture of it in his mind. 

The knowledge of things which we have gained by thought, 
is thus incorporated into our inner perception as a mental 
image; and when the opportunity occurs, it is renewed by 
the direct nature of the perception, consequently without the 
renewal of all the thought of which it is the fruit. The 
faculties of the mind and the senses have labom-ed at this 
knowledge in common, and it remains therefore perpetually 
common property, only each of these faculties employs it 
according to its own method. This may be said even with 
respect to objects of a less material nature. He who is 
acquainted with a variety of languages, and has inquired 
into their mutual relations, will not only judge with conside- 
ration and reflection and more correctly on the objects relating 
to them than he wdio is ignorant, but he will also judge of 
them in consequence of a direct impression. Even com23lete 
results of thought will thus be brought within the range of 
perception. For instance, we at first comprehend, in a direct 
manner, the figure of the circle ; and our inner sense, in con- 
sequence of its original conformity to reason, will be satisfied 
with this impression ; but he who has reflected on the various 
properties and relations which we are instructed by thought 
to discover in the circle, will, in addition to this, have an 
idea of the oneness of the thought in which they all belong 
to one another; and if we have made ourselves thoroughly 
acquainted with it, this idea is impressed as a remembrance 
on our inner sense, and produces an ideal image, which not 
merely belongs to reason but also to our senses, which receive 
it as something directly floating before it. 

While our inner sense is thus penetrated and fertilized by 



THE UNBEAUTIFXTL IN NATURE. 417 

our lother faculties, and acts, both in our power of compre- 
hension as well as production with a direct effect, it is not 
merely a sense in the narrower signification of the term, but 
receives the name of imagination. The beautiful then is 
comprehended, and, so far as it originates from ourselves, is 
created by this faculty of sense. It acts according to the laws 
of reason, similar to all the forces in the world. This indeed 
very frequently happens in a manner which escapes our 
inquiry, but, nevertheless, we have fortunately seen so many 
distinct traces of it, that we have been thence enabled to 
make conclusions on the whole, as we do with respect to the 
laws of nature. 

From all that has preceded, we perceive that the imagina- 
tion has a series of stages of development, which are inter- 
woven in a variety of ways. Some important stages of deve- 
lopment might be pointed out here, as particular periods 
are established in history; but this should not be attempted 
in the present case, whereas three main divisions may be 
distinguished in the co-operating faculty of the comprehen- 
sion of beauty : — ^the real natural sense of the beautiful ; the 
imagination, as a natural sense, which has been cultivated 
by the various activity of the different faculties of our souls; 
sight, through knowledge, which exists where knowledge has 
become so clear that the truth acquired appears to the inner 
sense in a perceptible form. 

So far as the inner sense apprehends things in a direct 
manner, its principal objects will be figures which express 
simple thoughts; symmetry, even of very involved forms, 
shadows, and relations of colours; the motion of sound 
(rhythm), and the more simple relations and movements 
of tones. 

Much which this sense would comprehend as beautiful, if 
it could receive the impression of it at once, or within narrow- 
limits of time and space, is exhibited to it in such a man- 
ner that the widely-separated parts are represented to it 
singly. This will be explained by an example which points to 
many others. If we imagine a tree stripped of its leaves, 
entirely alone, we shall rarely think it beautiful, and yet in 
a wintry landscape it may form a portion -of a beautiful whole. 
Let us now go further, and imagine the tree in its entire 
annual course of being, and then the poverty of its wintry 
existence will be adopted into a whole image of life, and form 

2e 



418 IHE XJNBEAUTirUL IN NATTTRE. 

a part in its beauty. It is true that such examples only show 
that what is not individually beautiful can form a portion of the 
beauty of the whole ; but more than this is not here intended, 
for the sense, merely acting in a direct manner, cannot com- 
prehend the more involved natural thought. Every one will 
remember a sufficient number of examples, when single 
natural objects, which in themselves alone made no impres- 
sion of the beautiful, still have not failed to produce it 
when joined to the effect of surrounding objects and of illu- 
mination, with the half- shadows proceeding from it ; setting 
aside the consideration that man is not often in a condition 
to comprehend things with the united animation and repose 
which is necessary to feel accurately what is offered him by 
nature. Therefore, that which is not comprehended as 
beautiful by the senses, is frequently only a fragment of a 
beautiful whole ; we may compare it with a fragment torn 
from a symmetrical whole, or with a dissonance which can be 
so resolved that, in connection with several tones, it becomes 
incorporated with a somewhat greater whole in tones. 

We must refer to something similar, when we consider the 
comprehension of beauty which takes place when an object 
which, out of its natural position, seems to be opposed to 
beauty, yet exhibits itself as beautiful when it is seen in its- 
proper natural position. We consider the swan beautiful, 
but that would hardly be the case, if we had not become 
accustomed to view it through the oneness of all the im- 
pressions in which we habitually see it. The celebrated 
orator, Burke, whose thoughts on the beautiful have gained 
a degree of reputation which is certainly undeserved, 
employed, among other things, the universally acknow- 
ledged beauty of the swan to support his opinion, that beauty 
does not in the least depend upon figure, that it does not 
alone depend on it was not sufficient for him. We will not 
dwell any longer on his views of the question, but we will 
employ the swan as an example, to explain the meaning of 
the natural position of an object, with respect to the appre- 
hension of beauty. Let us imagine a man so situated, that 
he had never seen a water-bird ; let him see a swan for the 
first time in a poultry-yard among the other fowls, and de- 
prived of access to any large piece of water, in which he 
could clean his feathers and preserve their dazzling whiteness : 
would he then think him beautiful? He would perhaps 



THE UNBEATJTIFUL IN NATUKE. 419 

admire the graceful curve which the neck assumes in certain 
positions, and the red beak; but he would be struck with its 
imperfect equilibrium, and would say there was a wonderful 
disproportion between the long neck and the short tail, with 
the short legs and broad feet, which cause such a waddling 
gait ; but let him now see it swimming on the water in its 
proper and natural position, and he will hardly recognise it. 
In general, it is only when seen on a quiet piece of water, in 
which it is reflected, that we observe the swan with sufficient 
accuracy; and, joined to the reflection, it offers a most beau- 
tiful symmetrical figure. Its feathers, constantly kept clean 
by the water, exhibit themselves here in their dazzling white- 
ness, and form a beautiful combination with the broad red 
bill, and the dark eye which appears between the red and 
white; besides this, all want of equilibrium has now dis- 
appeared. The water supports the tail : it is only an excep- 
tion when it is supported by the legs. The neck, which even 
in its curved posture is very beautiful in itself, conti'ibutes to 
the equilibrium of this position, while the swan glides slowly 
and majestically over the surface of the water. The imagi- 
nation adds still more to this almost direct impression of 
beauty. A notion of purity is awakened within us by the 
whiteness ; and since whiteness and pm'ity are symbols of 
spiritual qualities, we receive this impression imperceptibly, 
although we by no means attribute these perfections to the 
animal itself, but it becomes a s^onbol to us of something 
higher than what we directly behold in the object. 

From another side imagination adds to these new ideas ; 
while we behold the half -raised wings of the swan, we im- 
mediately think of its similitude to a distant ship, and of its 
power to fly. The impression we receive from the w^hole 
phenomenon contains something of the sublime and the 
powerful, of the pure and the harmonious, which is often 
increased by surrounding objects, — for instance, by the blue 
sky which is reflected in the water, by the brilliancy of the 
water itself, and by a background of green trees. It is only 
with some few that the legend of antiquity about the song of 
the swan, and that this bird was dedicated to Apollo, will 
add still more to the impression. But if v>'e now behold the 
swan on dry land, do we cease to find him beautiful ? The 
whole image which our imagination has drawn for itself, 
generally follows us to the firm ground, to which the creature 

2 e2 



420 THE TJNBEAUTirUL IN NATURE. 

is a stranger, and it is bnt little altered during the short 
time in which we usually see it there ; but should we behold 
it there for a long time, its structure, which is so ill adapted 
for such a condition, would make a great change in the im- 
pression which we had received when we saw it in its true 
natural position. We are so accustomed to see the swan in 
its proper place, that we are almost puzzled to view it in any 
other light. The case is totally reversed with regard to the 
ape. If we set aside for a moment the sensations which 
are aroused in us w^hen we compare it with man, and if we 
transfer ourselves to those countries where it appears to us 
in its natural position, in the w^oods, on the branches of the 
trees, amidst their foliage, where we are amused by its alert- 
ness in climbing and its merry leaps, it both serves to enliven 
surrounding nature as well as to awaken a pleasure in con- 
nection with it. Its resemblance to man, which, however, 
has been too highly estimated, has been the occasion of com- 
parisons which have mortified our self-love, but have had 
still more influence in exciting a feeling of disgust towards 
the creature. This may be sufficient to indicate something 
which may contribute to the solution of this natural disso- 
nance ; perhaps one endowed with greater knowledge may 
be able to do this still better, or perhaps its solution will 
even require a degree of knowledge which does not yet exist. 
To obviate misunderstanding it must be expressly said here, 
it is by no means necessary that, within a certain range of 
our comprehension, we should cease to consider the ape as 
ugly, since the ugliness we discover in it may be resolved 
into a comprehensive harmony similar to a natural disso- 
nance : each of these comprehensions has its justification ; 
only one of them in a far higher and more extensive circle of 
existence than the other. 

The bat may serve to explain another sort of ugliness in 
natural objects. It belongs to the mammalia, and yet it has 
a false similarity with birds, as its fore feet, with their dispro- 
portionately lengthened toes, are joined together with skin, 
and serve for instruments of flight, though they but little 
resemble the wings of birds. This creature deviates so 
strongly from the form of the mammalia, that by the appre- 
hension of our senses we cannot place it among them ; and the 
same occurs when we attempt to assign it a place among the 
birds. The bat terrifies our imagination as something unnatu- 



THE UNBEAUTIFUL IN NATURE. 421 

ral, although it has undeniably its appointed place in the series 
of development of animal life ; but this is not apparent to the 
imagination. It was only when a most profound knowledge 
was able to point out, in simple and distinct terms, how it 
belonged to the Whole in nature, that the imagination was 
able to make a corresponding image. In the present state of 
our knowledge the imagination must remain irreconcilable; 
nay, in addition to this, because this creature passes its life 
in the dark, it therefore still more reminds us of something 
at enmity with the beautiful and the good. Heason cannot 
require that the imagination should comprehend the case 
otherwise, but it previously informs us, that it is precisely 
because it hides itself in the dark that its entrance into our 
world of beauty is hindered ; and reason does not doubt that 
the bat is a species of animal which forms a part in the 
connection of the whole of creation. We easily perceive 
that the difficulty is not here represented as solved, but only 
that the necessity existing in the world of reason indicates 
that it may be resolved ; and that by means of distinctness, 
produced by reason, it must one day be reconciled with the 
imagination. The apprehension of ordinary life is not thence 
destroyed, for this reconciliation occurs only in proportion as 
Imagination passes into Knowledge. 

It is only from this point of view that we can regard mon- 
sters, in their connection with the harmony of law in the 
whole of nature, xls far as our knowledge has yet reached, 
we see that they are produced by an excessive enlargement 
or diminution of certain organs, and our observations on this 
kind of disproportion generally disclose important secrets in 
nature ; but by what laws they are arranged into the rational 
harmony of the whole, will probably be the result of a future 
discovery. 

Even the poetic spirit has its influence on our comprehen- 
sion of beauty ; w^e do not here allude to occasional poetic 
strains, but to the poetry of human society. Thus the posi- 
tion which we assign the lion, in our world of beauty, is not 
alone bestovred on him on account of his form. All that has 
been said about his strength in those countries which he 
inhabits, has accompanied our knowledge of the form of the 
creature, so that our imagination receives a much stronger 
impression of the lion's otherwise really powerful external 
appearance. The knowledge which we derive from our ex- 



422 THE UNBEAXTTIFUL IN NATUKE. 

perience of man himself, that the strong can raise themselves 
more easily than others above trivial emotions, has permitted 
man to attribute a kind of magnanimity to the lion which he 
does not possess ; but if I may venture to say so, it is the 
natural poetry of the human race which has caused us to fix 
upon the lion as endowed with this quality; and on that 
account the imaginative faculty of the human race, or per- 
haps only of certain large human societies, has been justified 
in accepting this view. 

In the same way, the imagination has formed notions of 
those creatures which most immediately surround us, or which 
come into most frequent communication with man ; and such 
joint productions of the perceptions of our senses and of our 
imagination hold good within the circle of existence for 
which they are formed. 

In the same manner certain animals have been assigned a 
place among things that are ugly, although it has not been 
the result of a simple impression of the senses. The serpent 
may serve as an example of this. Our experience of the 
poisonous character of many certainly shares in this influence. 
By the natural poetry of the human race, our dislike of 
them is increased. This comprehension of the serpent as an 
ugly animal, has the same validity as the impressions we 
have already mentioned of some other creatures. 

Let me be excused for making one more observation, namely, 
on fictitious forms. The artist has often employed wings, to 
denote the power possessed by gods or angels to move through 
space over the earth. So far as these wings are employed to 
designate this power, they perfectly answer the demand of 
the imagination; but as far as the author remembers, artists, 
though not in ancient times, have frequently represented the 
wings of such an immense size, and placed in such a position 
that the imagination must accept them as the actual instru- 
ments of flight of the creature represented. Where this occurs 
the creature loses its character of the supernatural ; it desires to 
be natural, and becomes unnatural. It is a law in nature, that 
wings, in all the vertebrate animals, are only formed by a 
peculiar development of the instruments of motion belonging 
to the fore part of the body, such as arms in men and forefeet 
in all the mammalia ; consequently birds have neither arms nor 
forefeet. The imagination which has become familiar with 
this law in nature, must thus come into collision with this 



THE UNBEAUTIFUL IN NATURE. 423 

fictitious alteration in the form of man. Many who have 
only casually heard of the law, but who have never traced 
its signification in nature, will doubtless not object to tho 
addition of wings. Their thoughts upon this subject, which 
are floating in mere yacuity, do not compel them to see its 
impossibility ; but he who has some knowledge of the muscles 
which would be required to set in action such new instru- 
ments of motion, and all the extensive organic changes 
which these would again presuppose, perceives that the altera- 
tion, if it were complete, must convert the flying figure 
represented into a totally diflerent creature from man. The 
author ofiers this dubious question, produced by a study of 
natural science, to the consideration of artists, and those 
competent to judge of this subject. 

There is yet one more important kind of ugliness for us to 
consider, namely, those things which are connected with the 
destruction of the living being. Few things make such a 
strong impression on us as corruption. To the direct per- 
ception of our senses it is disgasting; it is dangerous to life, 
and horrible to the imagination. From a finite point of 
view, it can never fail to make this impression on us ; for it 
does not then exhibit the high signification of material de- 
struction in the whole of natural life, and still less the hope 
which there exists for man beyond this destruction. But in 
the highest mental perception, the connection which exists 
between them, and which is learnt by knowledge, also ap- 
pears before the imagination, and creates a sublime picture 
of beauty, perceiving which, it never occurs to us to descend 
to the remembrances of material impressions. Individual 
external signs of death may be employed by the artist, espe- 
cially the painter ; for instance, a death's head and bones, 
placed beside a man engaged in devotion, by its connection 
with a higher hope, it then becomes a resolved dissonance. 
The poet whose representation is not fettered to the direct 
impression of the scenes, can go still farther, and may ele- 
vate us to a height where the descent is only the entrance 
to a higher life. 

There certainly is a spiritual sphere of apprehension, with 
respect to all which is apprehended as unbeautiful or that is 
ugly in nature, where it forms a part in the beauty of the 
whole. Were it now possible to comprehend all the objects, 
beautiful or unbeautiful, on the surface of the earth, in an 



424 THE TINBEATJTIFUL IIS" NATL'EE. 

image small enough to be surveyed, where all objects must 
naturally be contained in their proper mutual proportions of 
magnitude, then, probably even, this sensational perception 
would form one whole of extreme beauty. 

The author is deeply persuaded how little these remarks 
are calculated to master the great task which he has at pre- 
sent touched upon ; but it seemed to him beneficial, that he 
who made such a great task the object of his inquiry should 
venture to offer his thoughts for examination, although he 
himself may be far from the end in view. 

If he has comprehended the case correctly, then Ugliness, 
as likewise, in a certain sense^ Evil, becomes a finite condi- 
tion; on the other hand, that which is essentially Beautiful is 
Eternal. 



f 



425 

CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 

From the Danish Popular Journal, 1837. 



The object of this Dialogue would be misunderstood, if it were 
thought that it was intended to prove the Copernicau system. A book 
of considerable size would be requisite for such a purpose, which would, 
to a certain degree, necessarily contain a popular view of all Astronomy. 
Desirable as this might be in other respects, it would not supply the 
place of the present Dialogue, for this is not written for those who rely on 
the proofs of Astronomers, and still less for those who possess prac- 
tical knowledge of this branch of science, or a knowledge of Mathematics 
and Natural Philosophy ; but it is written for those who believe that there 
are grounds, even for those who are ignorant of science, for rejecting 
the theory of Astronomers. It is said, for instance, that the so-called 
Copernican system, which assumes that it is not the sun which moves 
round the earth, but the earth which moves round the sun, is opposed to 
the manifest testimony of the senses, and that we must believe that Tycho 
Brahe, who denied this system, deserves more confidence than all those 
who accepted it; that the old views we find in the Bible have been 
expressly confirmed by experience ; that even if there could be two 
opinions on the correct comprehension of passages in the Bible which 
are viewed as important in this matter, it must be maintained that the 
Copernican system is opposed to Christianity. This dialogue has not 
been called forth by intimations of these opinions in print, but far 
more by the experiences which I have gathered in daily conversation with 
reference to the notions which religious excitement has created on this 
subject.* I honour the pious feelings which are exhibited in this case, 
but I am firmly persuaded that repugnance to these views can only pro- 
ceed from misunderstanding. This I have done all in my power to 
remove ; and I only wish that my earnest endeavour to write within the 
comprehension of a large proportion of my readers may be in some 
degree successful. 

I shall perhaps be told that the astronomical opponents whom I now 
permit to step upon the scene are too prejudiced and ignorant, and not 
sufficiently clear- sighted. Since I do not contest the point with any 
single person, but only wish to operate against preconceived opinions 
which I have found scattered among a great number of people, I have 
been compelled to set to work in the manner I have selected: had 

* The Copernican system was violently attacked, about that time, by 
the hyper-orthodox party, and condemned on scriptural grounds. 



426 CHEISTIANITY AKD ASTEONOMY, 

I not been desirous to distribute the prejudices among a greater number 
of persons, which would have easily oc6asioned me to be more diffuse, 
it would not have been more advantageous to my cause. Perhaps 
it may be objected, on the other hand, that there are many queries 
and answers in this dialogue, which show that I am not afraid of being 
diffuse, and I may not indeed have hit the just proportion in this respect ; 
but where certain links in the chain, which in themselves are unmeaning, 
serve to draw attention for a sufficient time in the course of the dialogue 
to one point, I hope they will not be considered as superfluous. 



Alfhed. Palmek. Northlight. Erwin. 

Palmer. I think we have now completed our business ; 
and as Erwin wishes us to remain with him this evening, I 
should like to mention something, on which I have long 
wished to know the opinion of experienced people. North- 
light often tells me that all recent astronomers are but 
children compared with our old Tycbo Brahe ; and that he 
has not the slightest doubt that the opinion of our old 
astronomer on the solar system is more valuable than that of 
all the others. But now that Alfred, who understands astro- 
nomy, is here, I am very desirous to hear his opinion on the 
matter. 

NoRTHLiGHT. You might hear that another time. I know 
it already. 

Alfred. You astonish me. I never remember to have 
spoken to you on the subject. 

N. You are right in that ; but I know that all astronomers 
of the present day are of one opinion. 

A. I ought not to call myself an astronomer, although I 
have made myself in some degree acquainted with astronomy. 

N. Is not that sufficient ? If you have applied yourself to 
astronomy, you are certainly a pupil of Copernicus. 

A. Yes, I do indeed believe that the earth moves round 
the sun. 

N. Did I not know that beforehand ? 

Erwin. But if all those who have studied astronomy are 
so united in opinion, we must thence conclude that there is 
no foundation for a dispute. 

N. Do you not believe so ? There is a sort of compact 
among them. 

P. But it would be a very remarkable compact that so 



CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 427 

many himdi-ed men, of so many different parties, both in 
religion as well as politics — men who were in some points at 
variance with one another upon important scientific subjects — 
should alw^ays continue to be of opinion that the truth con- 
cerning the arrangement of the solar system ought to be kept 
secret. I should sooner believe that all those who now speak 
against the Copernican system were in the secret service of 
the Pope, because he condemns it ; although the importance of 
the thing has extorted from him the permission that it may 
be proposed as the most convenient basis of calculation. 
Meanwhile, I am far from really admitting this convenient 
mode of explanation. Yet it is quite incredible to me that, 
among the various people w^ho have pursued astronomy during 
the last two centuries, there should not at least have been one 
who was not either sufficiently honest, or sufficiently ambitious, 
or sufficiently desirous for the great reward which he might 
have expected from the Court of Eome, to have betrayed the 
secret. 

N. There certainly have been such men ; but if any one 
rises and says that the Copernican system is false, astronomers 
are immediately at hand, and unanimously declare that he 
understands nothing of their science. 

P. But they might teach it to other honourable men. 

N. The incredulous world would beware of visiting such a 
teacher. 

P. But those who are credulous ? There is no small 
portion of these. 

N. They can spend their time on something better. Do not 
let us speak any more about it. Do not require that I 
should believe a new-fashioned bookworm rather than our old 
Tycho Brahe, w^ho drew his learning from the great star-book 
of the heavens. 

A. It certainly entirely depends upon yourself whether you 
wish to discuss astronomy ; but as some of your w^ords were 
aimed against me, I must be permitted to show that they did 
not hit me. 

N. Well, let us hear. 

A. You spoke as if I had never read in the star-book of the 
heavens, but I must say that I have several times observed 
the heavens, and have seen things there which Tycho Brahe 
never saw. 

N. That was probably the Copernican theory. 



428 CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 

A. You certainly do not mean precisely what you say, for 
you cannot indeed believe that I never observed the heavens 
with a telescope. 

N. But Tycho Brahe did not possess that wisdom. 

A. He died in 1601, and the telescope was discovered at a 
later period. The first time that it was used in observations 
in the heavens w^as in the year 1609, and the first publication 
of what was discovered by this new expedient appeared in the 
year 1610. 

N. Who knows whether Tycho Brahe had not himself 
discovered and employed it previously, without mentioning it ! 

A. And would he at the same time have remained silent 
on what he saw by means of it ? Your zeal for our celebrated 
countryman leads you too far. 

N. Well, what new things vrere discovered by the telescope 
w^hich Tycho Brahe had not already seen ? 

A. Galileo, who first employed the telescope for observa- 
tions, discovered that the planet Jupiter had four moons. 

N. Well, that was a good thing for him. 

A. But still better for us. 

N. How so? 

A. We have by it obtained a glorious means of determining 
how far one place on the earth lies east or west of another. 

N. I cannot certainly contradict you on this point ; it lies 
beyond me. 

A. By no means. I will not at present speak according 
to the Copernican system. I begin by saying that the sun 
rises in the east. You have nothing to say against that ? 

N. No ; that is spoken rationally. 

A. Any spot which lies due east of another spot has con- 
sequently its morning, mid-day, and evening, at an earlier 
period of time than this last; and even if it does not lie 
exactly east of the other, but at the same time rather more 
north, or rather more south, which would produce a difference 
in the length of the day, together with the rising and setting 
of the sun, still the spot situated most to the eastward would 
have an earlier mid-day. 

N. That is of course understood. 

A. If one spot lies so far to the eastward of another that its 
distance from it forms -^ of the whole circumference of the 
earth, it is already 12 o'clock in the former, when it is 11 in 
the latter place. If the difference were two hours, then the 






CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 429 

distance between the two spots would be twice -^j; in other 
words, ^ of the circumference of the earth. If, on the other 
hand, the difference were only half- an-hour, then the distance 
would be only half a twenty- fourth ; that is to say, -^ of the 
circumference of the earth. If the difference w^ere four 
minutes, which constitutes ^ of an hour, we must then 
divide the circumference of the earth into 16 times 24 — that 
is, into 360 parts — to obtain an extent as long as the distance 
between the two spots. 

N. All that put together is perfectly good ; but now w^hat 
farther ? 

A. Now if w^e had a sign that it were possible for us to see 
at the same time from different places, even many hundred 
miles apart, and that the moment in w^hich the sign w^as seen 
the stroke of the clock of that place were to point to a clock, 
which followed with exactitude the course of the heavens, 
should we not from it learn the difference of time in those 
places, and might we not use this to calculate their reciprocal 
eastern or western position } 

N. Good! 

A. Well, we have a similar sign every time one of Jupiter's 
moons conceals itself behind that planet. 

N. But that proves nothing for the Copernican system. 

A. I did not even intend it should do so; but my object 
was to speak further with you on your doubts ; and I wished 
to seize this opportunity, to give you an example that it has 
not been merely trifles which have been discovered since the 
spirit of Tycho Brahe ascended into that world where he no 
longer required our telescope. 

N. I have nothing to say against this, if I can only see 
that these important things v/ould not have caused him to 
alter his opinion. 

A. It is true that this important result of the discovery of 
Jupiter's moons would not have changed his opinion ; but it 
contained something besides, which might have had a great 
influence on it. Consider for a moment that the chief ground 
why the Copernican system is not gladly adopted by the 
multitude, is because they disKke to abandon the notion that 
all the heavenly bodies were created for the earth alone ; and 
on that account, that this was the centre round which the 
whole universe turns. Must we not doubt this idea, if we 
have seen that other planets have also moons 3 and, indeed, 



430 CHBISTIANITY AND ASTKONOMY. 

moons so far removed from us that we cannot behold them 
with the naked eye. It requires a strong power of imagina- 
tion to believe, that such moons were rather created for us, 
than for the spheres which they illuminated. 

N. But yet you said that these moons were of great use 
to us. 

A. You are very ingenious. But you forget that the 
planets Saturn and Uranus also have moons, which are still 
more difficult for us to observe, and on that account are not 
easily employed for determinations of this kind. Yet you 
might yourself conceive that in the future we may reach 
such a point, as to derive some benefit from them here on 
earth. But if on that account you would say that they are 
merely created for the earth, you would not, probably, find 
many who would believe that you were serious. 

N. Do you not then believe that Tycho Brahe, if he had 
become acquainted with this discovery, would have been 
unable to answer it ? 

A. I am willing to believe that; for what can we not 
defend, if we desire no more than to defend ourselves against 
the fancied humiliation of confessing error ? But I think far 
too highly of Tycho Brahe to attribute such a sentiment to 
him. He was an inquirer after truth, and not a contemptible 
advocate. Dissimulation did not belong to such a man. I 
must, meanwhile, observe that I have pre-supposed in my 
answer that he had seen this fact in connection with the 
others, partly by the aid of the telescope, partly by mathema- 
tical researches on discoveries which had already been made ; 
for it is rare that any one fact standing alone will determine 
the opinion of a well-grounded thinker. Even in the two 
years immediately following the first use of the telescope for 
observations in the heavens, there occurred various discove- 
ries which must have had the greatest influence on the 
notions concerning the system of the world. Before the 
telescope was known, people could still cling to the idea that 
the planets were distinguished from the earth by their lustre. 
It was said, the planets are luminous bodies; that the earth 
is dark : how then can we say that the earth goes round the 
sun like the other planets ? It has no similarity to a planet. 
The telescope removed this objection, and plainly showed, 
what previously could only be surmised, that those por- 
tions of a planet which are not illuminated by the sun, are 



CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 431 

obscure, similar to the unillurained portions of the moon. 
The earth may therefore seem to the other planets to have 
the same lustre as these or the moon appear to us to possess. 

N. But would Tycho Brahe have also allowed himself to 
imagine that the planets must be as great, or stiU greater, 
than the earth ? 

A. It was not necessary to teach him that. He well knew 
that the heavenly bodies are so far distant that they must be 
very large to be seen as we see them, and that many of them 
must be far larger than the earth. We have, indeed, now 
more exact measurements than his instruments permitted, 
although, for their time, they were excellent; but this alters 
nothing in the main question. What, on the other hand, he 
was unable to see with his o^ti eyes, was, that the planets 
have spots on them like the moon, and that, by observations 
on their changing position^ we can perceive that the planets 
turn on their axes. 

N. On this point I once read something from which I 
learnt that the astronomers, who were formerly so imited in 
opinion in all things, are now disagreed whether the planet 
Venus accomplishes her rotation in somewhat more than 
twenty-three hours, or whether she occupies more than 
twenty-four days for it. What now is to be thought of the 
other revolutions ? 

A. Astronomers are forced to submit to a very severe 
treatment. If they agree in their opinions, their enemies do 
not hold it to be from conviction, but by a compact. If they 
disagree on the exact period of the rotation of a single planet, 
this must prove that they disagree with respect to all those 
planets on whose period of rotation they are unanimous. 

N. Very well. We will allow the astronomers to agree 
that planets do turn upon their axes. 

A. Tycho Brahe did not see the mountains in the moon. 

N. Nor have I seen them, and yet I once viewed the moon 
through a telescope ; but I saw nothing more than that it was 
uneven. 

A. You are right ; but unevenness which is so great that 
we are able to perceive it at a distance of 50,000 miles, must 
be rather more than a few yards high. And great elevations 
on a sphere, you will probably call mountains } 

N. But is the moon so far distant ? 

A. That is proved by measurements. Even your friend, 



432 CHEISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 

Tycho Brahe, contributed to tli's calculation, and even if his 
measurement could not be quite so exact as that of the present 
time, there would not be such a great difference as to oblige 
us to notice it here ? But we have now an opportunity in 
which you may allow yourself to be instructed by experiences 
and observations, which are quite within the sphere of con- 
templation of the sound understanding of man. 

N. Let us hear. I am curious. 

A. Do we not see the highest objects on earth at the 
greatest distance ? 

N. Of course. 

A. And inversely, if we can see the summit of an object 
at a remote distance, we must conclude that this summit lies 
high above the flat country, or the surface of the ocean. 

N. Certainly. 

A. A mountain must be very high, even when it is seen at 
a distance of twenty miles ; now when the moon can be seen 
at one and the same time from several places, which are more 
than 1,500 miles apart, it must be many hundred miles high 
above the earth. This is, indeed, indeterminately and feebly 
expressed, when compared to our exact knowledge ; but it is 
sufficient to prove, that no learning is required to conceive 
that the moon is much farther removed, and that it must be 
of a much greater size, than the thoughtless multitude, who 
doubt the calculations of astronomy, can have any idea of. 
They might come to the same conclusion ; nay, they might 
themselves gain a better idea of its distance, if they consider 
that, whether we behold it high or low in the sky, if it is not 
so low as to oblige us to see a number of terrestrial objects 
at the same time which impede our view, it appears to us 
equally great, although it floats over places which are many 
hundred miles removed from one another. 

N. I must, indeed, grant that my doubts on this point 
went too far. 

A. If your faith were not opposed to it, would you not 
now yield, dear Northlight ? 

N. I dare not appeal to faith, in opposition to astronomers, 
but I may, indeed, appeal to my senses. If these show me 
that the heavens turn round, and that the earth stands still, 
no subtility shall make me believe that it is the heavens 
which stand still and the earth which moves. 



CHRISTIANITY AND ASTEOKOMY. 438 

A. You are not far removed from maintaining, that for the 
honour of our senses we ought to deny the understanding. 

N. How so ? 

A. We should be forced to believe, if we were compelled 
to follow your principle, that a thing which we see at a great 
distance is really small, and that it gradually becomes greater, 
the nearer we approach it ; that an avenue, where it is most 
distant from us, is narrower than where it is near us ; that 
the lamps in the street are so much closer together the farther 
we are removed from them. 

N. Well, our senses themselves rectify these errors. 

A. Therefore the testimony of the senses requires correc- 
tion. 

N. Yes, by comparison with one another. 

A. But you do not then mean to say that the senses them- 
selves make the comparison ; for the faculty of comparing 
things which we have seen at different periods must be 
ascribed, indeed, to the understanding. 

N. Allow the understanding to have its share ; but the 
senses are the chief agents. 

A. I do not think so. But I would rather ask you a few 
more questions to learn your real opinion. When a ship 
makes a tmn, does it not seem as if the shore ran round the 
ship! 

N. It does, indeed. 

A. And in the evening, when I wander in moonlight, and 
it seems exactly as if the moon accompanied me, then the 
senses again correct themselves. 

N. The senses here require no correction, but only the 
astronomers ; that does not concern me at all. 

A. I think, however, it does ; for instance, when two 
travellers meet one another, and each of them asserts, on the 
testimony of his senses, that the moon has accompanied him, 
which of them is in the right ? 

N. I am still of the same opinion, that here the one expe- 
rience corrects the other, and that we thence learn that the 
moon has accompanied neither of them. 

A. But now if an inhabitant of the planet Jupiter were to 
meet with one of the inhabitants of the earth, and if the first 
said, according to the evidence of his senses, that all the 
heavenly bodies turned round his planet, but the last that 

2f 



434 CHRISTIANITY AND ASTHONOMY. 

these revolved round the earth, the one experience might then 
likewise correct the other. 

N. But I doubt whether Jupiter has any inhabitant ; and, 
supposing it has, they will yet never meet us. 

A. Therefore the same thing happens to us, the inhabitants 
of earth, as would happen to the traveller in moonlight, if he 
met no one. 

N. No, he might correct his error if he turned back. 

A. By no means, for his senses would then only have 
taught him that the moon turned round with him. 

N. But even though the senses do deceive us now and 
then, still when God's Word does not speak to us, we have 
nothing further in which we can confide. 

A. The understanding ? 

N: There is no dependence on that. 

A. You are its great enemy. Yet you allow it to pre- 
calculate the whole almanac, with the length of the days, the 
rising and the setting of the sun and moon, &c. You even 
allow it to foretell the eclipses of the sun and moon during 
the whole year. You also permit it to invent machines 
which furnish you with many of the comforts of life, which 
otherwise would either be unattainable or unknown, and even 
to arrange the civic commonwealth by well-considered laws. 
In short, the understanding is a misapprehended friend, to 
whom you must apologize. 

N. But does the understanding never err ? 

A. How, indeed, coiild I venture to deny the truth, that 
man may err in the use of each of his mental faculties, just 
as much as in that of his senses ? 

N. Then there is no other wisdom than the Word of God, 
I will hold fast to that. 

A. That is perfectly true. Such is also the opinion of 
astronomers. 

N. How am I to understand that ? 

A. As naturally as possible. The movements of the world 
they read in the book of laws which God has written in the 
heavens wdth his own hand. 

N. But they read it by the aid of their own deceitful 
understanding. 

A. Let us, however, speak somewhat more exactly. 
Astronomers first became acquainted with the heavens by 



CHKISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 435 

the aid of their senses. They have collected the experience 
of thousands of years on the events of the heavens. Thej- 
have continually endeavoured to invent better instruments, in 
order to see the planets, and to measure their magnitude, 
distance, and movements. They have always compared their 
calculations with what occurred in the heavens. Ought we 
to doubt that so much honourable diligence and so much 
inquiry does not, in some way, lead to truth ? 

N. Yes, if our understanding were not so obscured. 

A. Do not, however, imagine it so obscured as to lose the 
power of calculating events of the heavens hundreds, nay, 
thousands of years beforehand. 

N. Tycho Brahe was also able to do this, although he 
permitted himself to be guided by the Bible. 

A. If the Bible were a guide for astronomical calculations, 
then Tycho Brahe would have learnt from it the laws of 
Kepler. 

N. I have heard so, but they chiefly relate to theory. 

A. They are founded on experience, and we owe their first 
consolidation to Tycho Brahe 's beautiful observations. Mean- 
time, the experience of two centuries has confirmed them. 
Every new planet which is discovered has given a new proof 
for these laws. When Sir William Herschel, in 1781, dis- 
covered the planet Uranus by the aid of Kepler's laws, 
only four years afterwards we were enabled to calculate that 
it would require eighty -four years for it to go once round 
the sun. When, in 1801, Piozzi discovered the planet 
Ceres, but after a few days of observation fell sick, and was 
then unable to re-find it, its proper position in the extensive 
space of heaven was rediscovered by calculation, which rested 
on the same laws. Once more, in later times, we have 
received a great proof of the validity of astronomical calcu- 
lation by Halley's comet. For seventy years and more it 
had been invisible to the inhabitants of earth,, but its path 
was calculated, and it came at the predicted time. 

N. But does it not occur to you that you attempt to prove 
astronomy by the coincidence of prophecies ? 

A. This quibble of words is not new to me. 

N. You call this remark a quibble of words ? 

A. Yes, a quibble of words. What more ? When you 
say that it is not right to prove the truth of scientific opinions 

2f 2 



436 CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 

by prophecies, you certainly understand by prophecy a pre- 
diction which has sprung from an inner feeling or perception, 
without the understanding being able to account for it, and 
prophecies, in this sense, do not belong to science; but if 
you will understand by prophecy a prediction founded on 
knowledge clearly manifested to the understanding, then it 
entirely belongs to science. Besides, I beg you will ask your 
understanding whether it is not a great proof of correct 
knowledge, when we are taught to predict events in a 
determined manner, not merely indefinitely, but with the 
utmost exactitude of time and place ; and when such pre- 
dictions have been confirmed many thousand times, is not 
the proof then beyond the means of refutation. And is 
there any use in bringing forward other proofs before people 
who have not themselves studied science, and who will not 
give the requisite time to study it? 

N. But was it not then possible to pre-calculate the events 
of the heavens just as correctly, according to Tycho Brahe's 
doctrine ? 

A. Before I answer this question, I must call your atten- 
tion to the fact that there are two kinds of pre-calculations in 
astronomy. The one is founded on this, that we must have 
collected some tolerably complete observations on a whole series 
of changes, and have seen them recur constantly in the same 
order. We then predict that it will occur at a future time. 
This kind of prediction clearly requires no insight into the 
laws of nature. The other kind, on the contrary, is espe- 
cially founded on and distinguished by this, that by the uni- 
versal laws of nature, we can foretell something about objects 
which are new to us. We do not, then, proclaim the return 
of that which we have already seen take place with the same 
things ; but something which natural reason, through the 
force of knowledge, says must necessarily happen. The two 
first examples which I have just given belonged wholly to 
this class, and neither the system of Tycho Brahe nor the 
older system anywhere ofiers a similar one. Even that 
example which I drew from Halley's comet, in which part of 
the prediction rests on a frequently repeated recurrence, still 
contains this peculiarity — that we should have been imable 
to predict the inequalities in the periods of circulation, had 
we not been in possession of Newton's glorious theory, which 



CHBISTIANITY AND ASTEONOMY. 437 

IS most intimately connected with that of Copernicus, and 
without which also most other astronomical calculations 
would be imperfect. 

N. In what does this Newtonian system consist ? 

A. To give a somewhat circumstantial account of the chief 
elements of his doctrine would be too much for one evening ; 
but its most simple principles I will gladly mention, for they 
speak to the unprejudiced and sound understanding of man. 
He has developed the great thought, that the movements of 
the planets occur according to the same laws as the move- 
ments here on earth. 

Is. Which laws do you allude to? ^' 

A. I must first mention one which was discovered before 
the time of Newton, namely, that an inanimate body can as 
little set itself in repose if it is in a state of motion, as it can 
set itself in motion if it is in a state of repose. 

N. That seems rational enough, but it is contrary to expe- 
rience, which shows us that a body set in motion — for in- 
stance, a ball which we roll down a path — often stands still of 
its own accord. 

A. No ; only because the little inequalities which it en- 
counters, and the particles of air which it must drive out of 
the way, gradually cause it to stand still. It has been proved 
by innumerable experiments that a movement lasts so much 
longer the more these kind of obstacles are displaced. But 
we may draw still more results from this absence of will in 
the inanimate object ; for on this ground the body set in 
motion neither can alter its velocity nor its direction. 

N. But yet we see that a ball or a stone which is thrown 
in a direct line describes a crooked path. 

A. The cause lies extraneous to the body that is thrown ; 
it is gravity, which is a power by which the earth attracts all 
bodies to itself. 

E. The law Avhich you now explain is called the law of 
inertia. 

A. Certainly it is called so, but this name easily leads to 
the belief that an impotency is attributed to bodies which 
would little accord with nature. Bodies are not wanting in 
forces to act, but in a will, even to begin a change in the 
application of their forces. 

E. It is really astonishing that mankind remained for so 



438 CHEISTIAKITT AND ASTEONOMY. 

many thousand years unacquainted with such a natural 
thought. It was, indeed, Descartes who first discovered it. 

A, We must rather say, gave it general admission; for 
Galileo had already grasped it. But at all events, the full 
signification of the absence of will in matter was not perceived 
above a century and a half before our times. 

E. Exactly; but I fear that I have interrupted you too 
much. I must not prevent you from continuing. 

A. It is the result of gravity that all material things attract 
each other throughout the whole world. The movement of 
falling bodies is occasioned by their being attracted from all 
parts of the earth. 

N. That seems to be explained naturally enough. 

A. Now Newton farther says, that the attraction between 
two bodies becomes so much the more feeble the farther they 
are apart ; not, indeed, that they attract each other twice 
as little when they are twice as far apart, three times as 
little when the distance is three times as great, and so 
on : but he shows that both the force of attraction, as all 
other active forces, which proceed equally in all directions, 
acts so much the more feebly at the greater distance ; and 
that to find the degree of feebleness, we must multiply the 
proportion of distance into itself; so that the force in twice 
the amount of distance is twice two, or four times less ; in 
three times the amount of distance three times three, or nine 
times less ; and so on. 

N. That is quite extraordinary. 

A. On the contrary, it is natural. Let us take our ex- 
ample from another active force, that we may be enabled to 
follow it better with our senses. Place a bit of paper one 
yard from a light, this paper will receive a certain number of 
the active forces of light, which the flame emits on all sides. 
Now move it two yards distant, and it will not receive nearly 
so much activity of light; much that was previously received 
now passes it. If we were to put another piece of paper in 
its place, which at the distance of two yards should now 
receive all the action of light which was before received at 
the distance of one yard, it must be twice as long and twice 
as broad as the first; but this gives fom- times as great a 
surface. You thus see that this mode of dispersion lies in 
the peculiar quality of space. 



CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 439 

N. I did not believe that it was such a natural thing. 
A. Newton now shows farther, by an ingenious calculation, 
that the magnitude of the effect which arises from the at- 
traction of all portions of a sphere, is so constituted, as if 
all these portions were in the centre ; which cannot, in 
reality, be the case, but which greatly facilitates certain 
calculations. 

N. For what does he use these calculations ? 
A. When we wish to compare other attractions with those 
on the surface of the earth, we have simple means for the 
purpose. The distance of the surface from the centre we 
may call a radius of the earth. Now, if an object is at the 
distance of two radii of the earth from the centre, then the 
earth attracts it four times as feebly; if it is distant ten radii 
of the earth, one hundred times as feebly; if it is sixty radii 
of the earth removed, it is sixty times sixty, or 3600 times as 
feebly attracted. 

N. You have to make a long calculation. 
A. It is now completed. The last calculation tells us how 
much the moon is attracted by the earth when it is removed 
about halfway between its greatest and least distance. 
N. But how can we see that the calculation is correct ? 
A, You remember that the straight path is the movement 
which bodies must follow when nothing diverts them from it. 
Now the moon never continues in the direct path towards 
which its com'se aimed at the preceding moment, but the 
attraction of the earth constantly causes it to deviate, so that 
the moon necessarily wanders round the earth. 

N. That does not, however, seem so certain to me. 
A. The one thought, nevertheless, has led us to the other ; 
meanwhile, we are not yet at the end. If we calculate the 
curve which is exhibited to us in the moon's path by observa- 
tion, it is just as great as it must be, in conformity with the 
doctrine of attraction. Every minute it deviates from the 
previous direction fifteen feet five-eighths. Figure to your- 
self distinctly what this really expresses, that amidst all the 
innumerable magnitudes which this deviation might possess, 
we, in reality, hit on the only one which is the result of the 
doctrine of attraction. You must add to this, that the moon, 
in each of its rotations, one time approaches nearer by one 
radius of the earth, another time recedes as much farther 



440 CHUISTIANITY AND ASTHONOMY. 

away from us. In each new position it has a different dis- 
tance, and makes a different cm-ve ; but in each of them we 
also obtain a different number from fifteen feet five-eighths, 
and always exactly that one which follows from the laws of 
attraction. You thus see that all these various numbers 
prove an agreement between thought and reality. Do not 
you think that this must inspire confidence ? 
N. I confess it is very remarkable. 

A. Now if we further calculate the paths of all the planets 
round the sun, we find again that they are exactly constituted 
as they must be if the sun attracts them according to the 
laws we have considered. The same occurs when we con- 
sider the moons of other planets. Their paths are exactly 
such as they necessarily must be if the attractive force of the 
planet acts according to the same laws as those of the earth 
and the sun. 

N. This, then, is the universal doctrine of attraction ? 
A. Only a very hasty sketch of it. To behold it in its 
inward harmony, we must devote much diligence and time 
on it, which, nevertheless, we should never repent. But I 
observe that there still remains much whose omission would 
be inexcusable, even in this rapid sketch. I must, especially, 
beg you to observe, that Newton's theory proves that the 
figure of the earth entirely depends on the same universal 
laws of nature, as the laws of motion belonging to it and to 
the other planets. A careful research has shown us that the 
earth has been fluid before it assumed its present conditio- . 
These fluid particles, if not otherwise prevented, necessaril/ 
arrange themselves into a sphere, where all parts of the sur- 
face are equally distant from the centre. But the rotation of 
the earth on its axis, altered this. Its rotation does not set 
in motion the portions of the axis ; but every other portion 
must describe a circle, which is so much the greater, the 
farther it is from the axis. Now, both inquiry and experience 
have proved that there is an endeavour in such a circulation 
to remove to a distance from the centre of the circle, and 
that this endeavour increases with the magnitude of the circle 
described. Hence it happens, that the rotation of the earth 
expands the earth in its great central circle, which we name 
the equator, and in all the parts lying near it. This percepti- 
ble deviation of the earth from the spherical form, was disco- 



CHRISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 441 

vered by inquiry sixty years before the experiences were col- 
lected which confirmed it. The peculiar form of the earth 
is, therefore, a proof that it turns upon its axis. 

N. I scarcely know what to say further. 

A. And the planets also exhibit a deviation from the spheri- 
cal form, each according to its magnitude and velocity of 
rotation. 

N. I do not deny that there is a great unity in this 
doctrine; but this unity is but idle talk to me, for I am 
compelled to say, that it is opposed to the Bible. 

A. You allude to the well-kno^vn passage in Joshua, where 
it is said that the sun stood still; but it appears to me, this 
as little proves that it was the author's opinion that the sun 
really moved, as if we were to assert, that he who writes the 
almanac adopts this opinion, because he says that the sun 
rises or sets, instead of saying that the earth tm'ns itself on 
this or on that day in such a manner; that in Copenhagen, it 
appears as if the sun rose about seven o'clock. We shoidd 
be more inclined to ridicule the astronomer, if, for the 
honom' of his system, he were to express himself in such a 
pedantic manner. It is certain that if Copernicus himself 
had related the aforesaid events, he could not, without 
pedantry, have expressed himself differently from Joshua. 

N. But yet the Bible must be understood literally. 

A. Even in this acceptation there must still be one passage 
which you cannot take literally, namely: The letter killeth, 
hilt the spirit maketh alive. But I need not enter here on a 
discursive treatment of the subject. There are a sufficient 
number of passages, when the Bible speaks of the earth, in a 
manner which cannot possibly be taken literally. Is not the 
globe mentioned in several passages in perfect accordance 
with our notions? But in other passages (for instance. 
Job xxviii. 24), the ends of the earth are mentioned; and 
in the Bevelations, the four angels who hold the four corners 
of the world. In Job xxviii. 13, and in many passages of 
the same book, the wings of the earth are cited as the most 
poetical designations for the movement of the earth. But if we 
desire absolutely to believe that the Bible teaches us astro- 
nomy, it seems, when all is put together, that it rather teaches 
the movement, than the absence of movement in the earth. 
I think, meanwhile, that the Bible, if it had been intended 



442 CHUISTIANITY A^^D ASTRONOMY. 

to teach astronomy, would have certainly expressed itself 
more distinctly. 

N. It will indeed be difficult, perhaps even impossible, to 
reply to this question by single passages from the Bible ; but 
all my Christian feelings are opposed to the doctrine of 
astronomers. 

A. If I understand rightly, you do not assume that the 
Bible contains the clear expression of the doctrine that the 
earth stands still, so that every one who builds upon the 
Bible must necessarily be convinced ; but you think that a 
profound er comprehension of the view of the Bible in its 
oneness would determine the matter. You feel so persuaded 
that it is you, and those wedded to your opinions, who here 
understand the Bible correctly, and that you are guided by 
the Holy Spirit, that you venture to defy the strongest 
counter-proofs deduced from reason and experience. 

N. You press me very hard. Shall I then abandon my 
Christianity, which I do understand, for your astronomy, 
which I do not ? 

A. Smooth words often deceive our senses. Express your- 
self with rather more exactitude, and your question assumes 
a very different aspect. Do not say, shall I abandon my 
Christianity? but sa}^, shall I correct the method by which 
I, in. accordance with many others, have understood Christi- 
anity for many years past ? 

N. Do not forget that this mode of understanding Christi- 
anity is of very ancieat date. 

A. Neither do you forget, that even amidst the ancient 
modes of comprehension there are great differences, and, 
above all, do not forget that there have been many men 
whose honest devotion to Christianity cannot be doubted, and 
w^ho have found no real opposition between their religion and 
their science. Thus, there is one mode of comprehending 
Christianity by which it does not come into opposition with 
truths which reason and experience show us cannot be 
refuted ; there is another mode of comprehension, by which 
Christianity cannot be united with these truths. I do not 
now ask, what you can answer before man; but I ask, can 
you answer before your conscience for imagining that the 
Holy Spirit urges you to reject decided truths ? You say 
that you understand Christianity; but neither you nor any 



CHRISTIANITY AND ASTKONOMY. 443 

man understands it fully. You say that you do not under- 
stand astronomy. That is true. But the question here is of 
certain positions on which all who have any knowledge are 
agreed, and which you would reject merely on the ground of 
your supposed deeper insight into Christianity, although many 
pious and learned Christians have adopted it. 

N. I perceive that the case has assumed such an aspect, 
that I must appear arrogant to all those w^ho do not agree 
with me, and yet I can assert that my opinion in this matter 
is connected wdth my v\^hole inward being. I will speak 
openly. All your natural science is adverse to the disposition 
of my mind; it transforms the w^hoie mode of thought, and 
turns it away from God. In your science, it is not He who 
permits the sun to rise and set, or who holds the earth in his 
' hand, or w^ho gives summer and winter. No ; with you it is 
the blind laws of nature which accomplish this. It is not 
His anger which emits the lightning. No ! With you it is 
only an electric spark, driven by blind necessity. It is not 
His power which permits the storm to sweep over the earth. 
No ! it is distui'bed equilibrium. It is not His goodness 
which sprinkles the earth with the waters of the heavens. 
No ! it is only, as I have been told, a sport between warm 
and cool currents of air. 

A. I call that w^ell spoken ; for you seem to me to have 
distinctly expressed the fundamental idea w^hich determines 
your conviction. I will endeavour to be equally clear. But 
first tell me, do naturalists deny that the whole world 
originates from God ? 

N. No ; they willingly grant this wdth reference to the 
whole; but yet they find the cause, of each single event in 
the laws of nature, so that God has no part to act in it. 

A. But from whom do the naturalists believe that these 
laws proceed? 

N. I do not deny that they allow Him to be a lawgiver ; 
but they do this in order that they may spare Him all further 
trouble with the government. 

A. Do you believe that w^e consider these laws of nature 
to be regulations which some one has given to God ? 

N. You must indeed conceive that God has given them to 
himself. 

A. But it could not then be impious to say, that God acted 
accordiDg to regulations which he had given to himself. 



444 CHEISTIANITY AND ASTEONOMY. 

N. No ; we certainly could not maintain that. 

A. But do you think that the profound naturalist consi- 
ders this mode of representation as perfectly worthy of the 
Divinity? 

N. I do not know what you mean. 

A. If we conceive the laws of nature to be regulations 
which God had once determined by himself to be those which 
nature should obey, and from which he has never deviated 
since, then the limits of our human capacities would be 
involved in the notion. 

N. Then what is there true in it ? 

A. All existence is the unceasing work of God, in which 
there is an impression everywhere of his infinitely perfect 
reason, which never alters. This continuous operation of 
divine reason, and this eternal similarity with itself to the 
laws of nature, must be submitted to our consideration. It 
thus is literally true, when it is said that God permits the sun 
to rise, that he orders the change of the seasons, and the 
course of lightning ; but many men are desirous that God 
should arrange these tilings according to their own notions, in 
opposition to nature, which notions are held to be so perfect 
in themselves, that they think the power and wisdom of God 
is denied, if that which they attribute to Him is doubted. 
That is the secret, you see. 

N. Well, I willingly believe that a person may be a good 
Christian, although he admits the Copernican system ; but I 
hope you will not deny, that he may be a good Christian 
although he rejects it. 

P. Certainly, we can be good Christians with pure child- 
like faith, without either understanding or admitting any 
astronomical system whatever ; but it would but little befit 
a Christian thoughtlessly to reject a scientific opinion which 
he did not understand. 

N. Still we do not become better Christians by its adop- 
tion ; we may view it with indifierence. 

A. I cannot even here grant you to be in the right. It is 
certainly true, that many men may be so ignorant that astro- 
nomy is necessarily a matter of great indifference to them, 
and that they must have learned much of other things, before 
they could derive true benefit from this. But all men are not 
60 situated. Let us remember that every piece of knowledge 
serves Christianity. I was surprised when you required that 



CHKISTIANITY AND ASTRONOMY. 445 

oiir contemplation of the plivsical universe should merely 
depend on the testimony of the senses. The common result 
of this is an entire misapprehension of human nature. Science 
has this in common with religion, that it endeavours to raise 
us above the impressions of our senses. Christianity, whose 
holy books are written in two languages, which are strange 
to most times and places, and which embrace so many sub- 
jects for inquiry, contains innumerable demands for reflection 
and cultivation. A great portion of the Christian world have 
obeyed these demands ; and in spite of many errors which 
by the condition of humanity necessarily creep in, it has yet 
thereby reached a far higher degree of Chi'istian enlighten- 
ment and Christian life than those barbarous nations who 
constantly mingle their gross conceptions with Christianity. 
Man, although religion strives to teach him something better, 
is far too strongly inclined to view the material world as 
actual true existence. Ought it not to contribute greatly to 
wrench him from this narrow circle of thought, if he sees 
that the earth which, to his imagination, was the firm sup- 
port of everything, is itself only a moving part in a greater 
world ; that heaven and earth are only an appearance, behind 
which lies a deeper and more enduring order in reason ^ 
Should not the insight that the whole world is not merely 
created for men, be a small remedy for his pride ? Should 
not the magnitudes which a more accm'ate perception of the 
world places before the eyes of man, enlarge his mind r 

N. How learned we must be, in order to become better 
Christians! 

A. Do not misunderstand me. Do you think me so narrow- 
minded as to imagine, that every man ought to study all the 
sciences ? No ! It is not now a question of learning; we only 
here speak of the acceptance of discoveries with love and joy, 
which have been made in the system of the world by the 
investigations of many centuries. It is by no means indif- 
ferent whether man despises a noble spiritual enjoyment or 
not; the pleasure we receive from it is at all times an ap- 
proach to God. Only sm'vey, in your mind, the fundamental 
features of the system of the world. Every planet is a 
great dark sphere like the earth, and receives its alterna- 
tion of day and night from the same sun. This is obtained 
by each of these spheres turning on its axis, so that one 
side is illuminated while the other is dark. In the same 



446 CHUISTIANITY AND ASTKOXOMY. 

manner each of them receives its seasons, because it goes 
round the sun in a certain time, and on a prescribed path ; 
and each planet receives a lustre from the light of the sun, 
which contributes to adorn the night of the other. On this 
consideration we cannot avoid thinking, that these spheres 
are just as much inhabited as our own earth, although 
by beings who must be in some degree different from our- 
selves. What an incalculable variety here springs from one 
great fundamental thought ! But what an infinitely wide 
circle, is disclosed for our admiration, if we consider that 
each of these countless fixed stars is itself a sun, and a 
centre for the movement of other spheres. We feel our- 
selves at once elevated, by this glance, into the revelation of 
Divine wisdom and creative force, and penetrated by the 
deepest feeling of humility. If we did not know it before, 
we should be compelled to learn now, that we are nothing 
when compared with God, but that we are something through 
God. 



447 



ON THE SPIRIT AND STUDY OF 

UNIVERSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 



The Spirit, the Signification, and the End of Natural Science, 

§ 1 . We endeavour to comprehend and investigate the whole 
of nature by reason, and to represent it as a connected whole. 
The science which imposes on itself this task is called 
Natural Science, or Physics, in the most extensive sense of 
the word. 

§ 2. If we cast an inquiring glance at nature, and think of 
comprehending this infinite variety by the aid of reason, we 
are astonished at the greatness of the undertaking. What 
an infinite multitude of objects we find scattered over the 
globe which we inhabit ! What a countless host of animals 
are known to us by name ! of insects alone probably a hun- 
dred thousand are described; and yet how many may be 
concealed from our view in the ocean ! How many may 
inhabit countries which have never been trodden by the foot 
of an inquirer ! "What a countless number may escape our 
sight, concealed within the entrails of other animals, which 
can only be discovered by magnifying powers ! No less 
wonderful are the multitude of plants, of which, indeed, a 
hundred thousand have been described. And further, the 
minerals of the earth, whose depths we have not penetrated 
as many fathoms as there are miles to its centre ! What a 
vast scheme it must seem to become acquainted with aR 
this ! And yet it is but an infinitely small part of nature. 
If we raise our thoughts to our solar system, the earth 
appears only a point in comparison, but even this solar 
system is itself only a point when compared with that 
portion of the heavens which we can survey by means of 
astronomical calculation. But what is all this compared to 
the eternity in which imagination, as it advances in calcu- 



448 ON THE SPIRIT AND STUDY 

lation, at length loses itself. If we now turn to the opposite 
side, and endeavour by analysis to penetrate into the interior 
of bodies, we continue to discover parts, which, upon a closer 
investigation, are found to be composed of others, which 
again are artificially constructed of different compound parts, 
and thus it continues without cessation. In short, we here 
also at length meet with something which our senses cannot 
comprehend. On one side, we lose ourselves in the infinitely 
great, and on the other in the infinitely small. 

But still that is not sufficient. In the whole of nature we 
discover an action which knows no rest. What appears to 
our eyes as rest is only a slow change. Everything hastens 
through innumerable degrees of development, from its origin 
to its destruction. Its whole nature is not expressed in any 
single moment of its existence. In order to know it per- 
fectly, we must therefore comprise all the periods which it 
has traversed, as in one focus. In other words, the infinite 
chain of existence which we call the world, which otherwise 
appeared beyond our comprehension, should not merely be 
viewed, as it is, but should be recognized as it ivas, and be 
calculated as it will he. We cannot say that natural science 
is exhausted until all this is attained. 

§ 3. It is very clear that we have here only projected some 
of the principal features of an ideal. A science such as this 
will always remain incomplete to a finite being. Yet with- 
out an aim in view, we have no direction for our powers ; 
and without an unattainable aim, the constant development 
for which the human race is destined cannot advance. The 
question therefore is : How can we possibly, within our 
narrow sphere, form a science for ourselves, which is an 
image, although a feeble one, of that ideal ? 

§ 4. A more deeply penetrating search into nature shows us 
an admirable unity in aU. this infinite variety. However much 
objects may differ from one another, still a deeper investiga- 
tion discerns a common nature in them all. Thus we find 
the same law of organization in the whole animal kingdom, 
in spite of the greatest and most varied difierence in their 
external form, and in their internal structui'e. While we 
have continually directed our attention, more and more, upon 
this fundamental unity, we have arrived at the conclusion 
that it is only necessary to know a few animals of each class, 
in order to obtain a true insight into the nature of the whole 



OF UNITERSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 449 

animal kingdom. By that means we can even obtain a toler- 
ably correct idea of animals, which no longer exist, and 
whose remains are brought out of the deep recesses of the 
earth. We again meet with this same unity in the vegetable 
kingdom, where also a fundamental investigation of some 
few organizations is sufficient to give a deep insight into its 
nature. In a further investigation, we find one point of imity 
common to the animal and vegetable kingdom ; yet even this 
is only part of a higher unity, until the mind is lost in one 
fundamental unity of the whole of nature w^hich we en- 
counter on whatever side we turn. The laws which influence 
our moon, equally influence the moons which accompany 
the other planets. The same laws govern the motion of 
these round the sun; and every planet that is discovered 
is only a fresh confirmation of this law. But we do not 
stop here ; we have grounds to assimie that our sun, along 
with several others, at the same time repeat on a large 
scale what is exhibited to us by our planetary system on 
a smaller one. Now if we once more retm-n from those 
heavenly bodies to the bodies upon our earth, we find that 
they are all, without exception, subject to the same laws of 
motion and gravity as those heavenly bodies ; so that from our 
experiments on motion made upon this earth, we may draw 
inferences which may be referred to the whole universe. 
If we are thoroughly acquainted with these laws of motion, 
we may calculate what was at one time the position of the 
heavenly bodies, and what it will be at any given time. 
Natural philosophy ofiers us various examples of this. We 
have discovered a similar harmony of laws in the successive 
periods of various other natural events, although they are 
far from being carried out with the same exactitude as in 
astronomy; for instance, regular periods in the development 
of the earth, and in the movement of the magnetic needle, 
although the duration of these periods has not yet been 
deteimined. 

These examples show us clearly what is accurately proved 
by philosophy, that every well-conducted investigation of a 
limited object, discovers to us a part of the eternal laivs of the 
Infinite Whole, 

§ 5. Now these laws, and the powers by which they are made 
to act, constitute the only invariable thing in nature. WTiile 
j all other things incessantly change their position ; while the 
I 2g 

\ 



460 THE SPIRIT AND STUDY 

materials of wliich they are composed continually alter, 
the original powers and their laws remain stationary ; they 
alone endure amidst this change. One thing is only distin- 
guishable from another by the laws which are expressed in 
it ; for we find the most dissimilar things composed of similar 
materials, and the further we proceed in our investigations, 
we shall be the more convinced that matter in everything, as 
well as the powers by which life and action are sustained in 
nature, are everywhere the same ; but that which gives ob- 
jects their determined character, and forms infinite variety, 
is only the manner in w^hich the actions take place in 
everything, the natural laws by which all is arranged and 
guided. In short, things are incessantly passing from one 
condition to another; in one constant growth out of the 
same matter, by means of the same powers. But matter 
itself is only space occupied by the primitive forces of 
nature, therefore it is the laws according to which a thing is 
formed from which it derives its invariable peculiarity. But 
that which constitutes the invariable in a thing, and which 
distinguishes it, is correctly called its essence, and that part 
of its essence which it does not share with others, its peculiar 
essence. We may, therefore, affirm, that the natural laws 
according to which a thing is formed, taken together, consti- 
tute its peculiarity ; and that the knowledge of the natural 
laws in action is the knowledge of the essence of the thing. 

§ 6. But the essence of a thing does not consist in one single 
natural law, which may be expressed as an idea, in a pro- 
position ; but in a union of various natural laws, which form 
together a higher law, for which, however, we in vain seek an 
expression. We may, therefore, regard the essence of each 
thing as composed of innumerable others ; but in itself it is 
only part of a still greater chain of being, and is connected by 
them with a higher unity (as, for example, the earth can never 
be perfectly comprehended if we do not at the same time 
consider it as a part of the solar system), which again is only 
a part of a still higher, and so on, till at length thought loses 
itself in the Infinite All. Thus all natural laws form together 
a unity, which, viewed in their activity, constitute the essence 
of the whole world. 

§ 7. If we investigate these laws more closely, we find that 
they harmonize so perfectly with Reason that we may assert 
with truth that the harmony of the laws of nature consists in 



OF UXIYEilSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 451 

their being adapted to the dictates of Reason, or rather, by 
the coincidence of the laws of Nature and the laws of Reason. 
The chain of natural laws, which . in their activity constitute 
the essence of everything, may be viewed either as a natural 
thought, or more correctly as a natural idea ; and since all 
natural laws together constitute but one unity, the whole 
world is the expression of an infinite all- comprehensive idea, 
which is one with an infinite Reason, li\ing and acting in 
everything. In other words, the world is a rovelation of the 
united power of Creation and Reason in the Godhead. 

§ 8. We now first comprehend how we can recognize nature 
through Reason, for Reason again recognizes herself in all 
things. But, on the other side, we can also conceive how our 
knowledge will never be more than a faint image of the great 
whole ; for our Reason, although originally related to the 
infinite, is limited by the finite, and can only imperfectly 
disengage itself from it. No mortal has been permitted en- 
tirely to penetrate and comprehend the whole. Filled with 
devout awe, he must be conscious of the limits of his powers, 
and acknowledge that the feeble ray which he is permitted to 
behold, nevertheless raises him far above the dust. Yet we 
are not connected with the inward essence of nature by the 
clear sight of Reason alone. As in our taste for the Beautiful 
we receive a sense for the impression of the spirit in forms, 
and in the conscience a sense for the impressions of Reason 
in life, so we also receive a sense for the impressions of 
Reason in the operations of nature, by which we feel its 
proximity, and without a distinct view of the individual 
parts, we are seized with an impression of the majesty of the 
whole. This anticipating consonance with Nature, guides 
reason in its inquiry, and is again awakened, strengthened, 
and purified by it ; both are most intimately united, yet in 
such a manner, that the former is most dominant in life, the 
latter in science. 

§ 9. It will now be quickly •felt how wrong it would be to 
make utility the aim of this, or of any other science ; for when 
we ask the use of an object, we infer that we attribute no sub- 
stantial value to the thing itself, but only in respect to some- 
thing else, which must, therefore, be superior to it. If 
science, therefore, is only to be pursued on account of its 
utility, there must be something more worth the attention of 
a rational being than the use of Reason, or something in man 

2 g2 



452 THE SPIRIT AND STUDY 

which is superior to his mind ; but since this is impossible^ 
science is good both in and for itself, and it requires no 
extraneous inducement to strive after it for its own sake. It 
should be pursued on its own account, both as an expression 
of our inward life, and as an acknowledgment of that which 
.s divine within us. That it also produces the most excellent 
results in a lower sphere, is a consequence of the harmony of 
reason which animates everything. It is exactly these results 
which are called the uses of science ; and, so comprehended, 
we may call it the excellence of science seen from a lower 
point of view. On this depends the completeness of the 
observation, and thence it possesses an immediate interest to 
a thinking being. Seen in this point of view, the use of 
Natural Science is twofold, since it partly strengthens our 
powers even for the purposes of social life, and partly gives us 
means for their employment. Besides the general develop- 
ment and perfection which every science endeavours to effect 
on our mental powers, Natural Science especially contributes to 
enlighten and strengthen our finite reason, whilst it exhibits in 
a regulated series of contemplations the eternal laws of reasou 
at the same time governing the external world. Impressed 
with this view, man enters upon each occupation with a more 
acute vision, with increased confidence, and with pm'er de- 
light, and fulfils it as one who acts upon inward conviction, 
not following merely a precept from without. The soul i& 
immediately brought into an inward peace and in unison 
with the whole of nature, and is delivered from every super- 
stitious fear, which always originates in the idea that it is 
possible that powers which are contrary to the order of 
Reason might intrude into the eternal course of Nature. 

This, in short, is the effect of an active love of science 
beaming forth in innumerable ways from within. In refer- 
ence to the external sphere of action of the powers in nature, 
the excellence of science may be comprehended in the one 
great truth, it teaches us to govern Nature, 

Nature offers the few necessaries of life but sparingly to 
uncivilized man, and only affords nourishment to a small 
number in a large circumference. Science urges her to 
greater generosity, and causes the earth to become more fruit- 
ful, and its products to be improved and manufactured for pur- 
poses which could hardly have been anticipated in the original 
matter. Thus man provides himself with an easy and com- 



OP XTNIVERSAL KA^TtTRAL I»HlLOSOl»IIY. 453 

ibrtable coAdition in life, where previously necessity could 
hardly have found nourishment to allay its wants. Where 
men formerly laboured thoughtlessly, as mere tools, and passed 
their time in servile toil, science exempts them from thi? 
by means of machines, which work in place of them, and 
fulfil the purpose still more completely. Man by nature is 
limited to a narrow sphere : this is enlarged by his insight 
into nature. By the aid of science he sails round the earth, 
dives to the bottom of the sea, flies through the air, and 
thus is no longer fettered to the spot of earth where he was 
born. A deep investigation into nature has enabled us to 
enlarge even the boundaries of our senses, so that by artificial 
instruments we discover a world where to our unassisted 
senses there only appeared a vanishing magnitude ; we dis- 
cover mountains and valleys in distant planets, and systems 
of suns where formerly the most daring imagination did not 
venture to place their creations. Thus the whole existence 
of man is enlarged, and becomes more spiritual ; so that it is 
evident that science and its results are mutually strengthened 
in their operations. Science assists in protecting whatever 
it presents to us. Without its aid man would be tossed to and 
fro by the wild struggles of the elements, which were ap- 
pointed for more universal purposes in nature. By science he 
learns to control one natural power by another, and often to 
guide to a salutary end that which appears most threaten- 
ing. Thus it teaches us to alter the com-se of heaven's de- 
structive lightning, to stem the power of water so that it may 
serve our purposes, to sway the consuming operations of fire, 
and to force from it the most important services. Even if the 
universal forces in nature are in direct opposition to the 
inner forces by which our body subsists, science teaches 
us to find a remedy, an antidote against poison, a cure or 
even a protecting power against sickness; and against an 
infection threatening life, w^hich formerly used to destroy 
the population of whole nations, and to throw them back for 
centuries in cultivation and development, science brings a 
union of forces by which it is weakened or even destroyed. 
We may even regard the untutored strength of man, un- 
guided by reason, as a crude and hostile work of nature, 
which frequently destroyed the fruits which had been deve- 
loped by the civilizing industry of many centuries. Natural 
science has contributed in an extraordinary manner to trans- 



454 THE SPIHIT AND STUDY 

form war into a scientific art, which can scarcely be brought 
to a high degree of perfection by any nation, if it has not 
in other respects attained a considerable degree of develop- 
ment. And thus this expression of power, which is at all 
times dangerous, might have lost, at least on one side, some 
of its horrors. In short, science facilitates, enlarges, and in 
various ways secures our condition in life, and removes 
various obstacles, which prevent the free activity of the 
spiritual development of mankind. 



Methods of Universal Natural Philosophy.'^ 

§ 10. All precepts which can be given for the investigation 
of nature must spring from the fundamental truth : That the 
whole of nature is the revelation of an infinite rational will, 
and that it is the task of science to recognize as much of it as 
is possible to finite powers. 

From this great fundamental truth there proceeds a number 
of fundamental laws, which must hover before the eyes of the 
naturalist as eternal guiding stars. His chief task is : To 
seek for Reason in Nature. He must therefore admit that 
natural laws everywhere harmonize with reason, and that 
every appearance of an exception to this rule must proceed 
from the imperfection of his knowledge. 

No contradiction is possible in the laws of Natm-e ; on the 
contrary, they are all in the most perfect harmony, and con- 
stitute together one sole inextinguishable Whole. If we direct 
our attention to the cause of the changes, we see that every- 
thing proceeds with perfect consistence. If then we direct 
our attention to what has been effected, we shall be com- 
pelled to admire each human representation of surpassing 
wisdom. We can frequently perceive so distinctly the exact 
consequence of events, that they may become a principle of 
knowledge to us. The wisdom of the end in view is elevated 

* By Natural Philosophy is here understood, the doctrine of the 
universal natural laws, that is, of the laws concerning the changes which 
may take place in all bodies ; for instance, all bodies may be moved, all 
may be heated, and cause aether to oscillate. 



OF UNIVERSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 455 

SO far above our capacity, that oui* reflections upon it may 
certainly lead to investigation, but can give us no foundation 
to build upon. 

Natural laws are invariable as tlie will from which they 
originate. 

The fundamental forces of nature are indestructible. By 
fundamental forces we understand the simplest and most 
original indications by which the creative power is recognized 
in external nature. 

The same forces always act according to the same laws. 
Actions which are really alike must proceed from the same 
forces. In order to investigate the laws of forces, we must 
endeavour to recognize each particular force in its purity, 
its laws of action in its simplicity; but at the same time 
never forget that each force is only a part of the Infinite 
Whole, and only subsists so far as that exists. 

We endeavour to comprehend Infinite Keason in Nature 
with our limited capacities, therefore we must constantly be 
distrustful of our own knowledge, and only confide in our 
representation of the thoughts of nature, in so far as they are 
clearly determined, and are in harmony with all which, 
according to our perfect conviction, is indisputably true. 

We must compare the evidence of reason with experience : 
we must endeavour to change the evidence of experience into 
an evidence of reason. 

§ 11. The basis of universal Natural Philosophy, both 
according to the idea which we have exhibited, as well 
as by the manner it has developed itself in the course of time, 
is Experience. Nature exhibits to us many of her changes so 
strongly and visibly, that we cannot avoid remarking them* 
These are the every-day experiences, which are not called so 
because most of them are of daily occurrence, but because 
they are perceived by no more than an every-day attention. 
Others we only discover by thought, while we turn our 
attention upon them. To gain knowledge from these in this 
manner is called to observe. Finally, there are many ex- 
periences which are not immediately exhibited to us by 
Nature in a very intelligible manner. In order to detect 
their essential character more narrowly, we must endeavotir 
to bring the objects together so that their effects may 
be more comprehensible to us. In other words, in order to 
see as perfectly as possible the mode of operation in nature 



456 THE SPIRIT AND STUDY 

we must understand how we clu absolutely set them in action, 
and as it were compel them to act under our eyes. This 
is called to make experiments — to experimentalize. Nature 
obliges us to make daily experience ; she invites us to make 
observations ; we perform the experiment ourselves ; it is a 
work of our most perfect freedom. It is easily perceived 
that these are all degrees of one and the same kind of know- 
ledge, which are so intermingled that we can draw no defined 
limits between them. Each experience easily passes with 
every thinking man into a closer contemplation, which, with- 
out any perceptible gap, leads him on to actual observations. 
From a mere arbitrary direction of attention to the point 
which at that time particularly constitutes the object of 
curiosity, he soon begins to compare, to distinguish, and to 
arrange the whole variety perceptible to the senses, which 
appears to be in connection. He endeavours to sharpen 
his senses by practice; he strives to measure their power, 
to prove them, and to determine them, and, where it is 
possible, to correct their mistakes. By habit he acquires 
a readiness to discover what is rare and peculiar in natural 
events, to find out their less remarkable similarities and differ- 
ences, and exactly to distinguish what belongs to each 
individual part. Where this no longer suffices, he seeks by 
artificial means to facilitate his observations, to widen their 
circle, to make them more accurate. He measures magnitudes 
by arrangements invented for the purpose ; he understands 
how to enlarge and to render more distinct those objects 
which w^ere too small or too remote for the power of his 
senses; in short, by artificial and arbitrary means, he in- 
vestigates more and more into nature, and is gradually 
changed into an experimentalist, who uses the same means 
as the ordinary observer, but adds new ones, and particularly 
distinguishes himself by greater freedom. Where nature 
operates with variously combined forces, he seeks to retain 
some of them, in order to allow the others to work more 
freely — even to retain all the others, in order to let one singly 
express itself with freedom. What nature accomplishes on a 
great scale he must often endeavour to represent on a smaller, 
in order to bring it nearer to the eye ; and what nature pre- 
sents on so small a scale that it would even elude the keenest 
sense, he must know how to render visible even to the less 
quick-sighted, for which purpose he has certainly far more 



OF UNIVERSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 457 

means than the casual observer. He must know how to bring 
what nature eflPects only for one sense before the judgment- 
seat of the others, in order that the more acute may clearly 
comprehend what the weaker only dimly perceived. Indeed, 
in order to view properly the nature of the thing, he places 
it frequently in perfectly new relations, never before offered 
by nature ; so that his previous suppositions ai-e either by that 
means strengthened or overthrown. In short, he everywhere 
seeks to compel the most secret powers of nature to reveal 
themselves, and endeavours to determine their course by 
measure and weight. The elaboration of the whole riches of 
external knowledge constitutes the great connecting art of 
Experience, whose cultivation to a degree previously un- 
known, forms the peculiarity of modern Natural Science. 

§ 12. This art presupposes many spiritual and material na- 
tural endowments, and much dexterity acquired by long prac- 
tice ; yet all these qualities would be useless, if they were not 
guided by a mind familiar with nature. To have seen a great 
number of natural phenomena is not to have an insight 
into nature. Experience only becomes instructive to us 
by a correct combination. To observe is to detect the 
actions of nature ; but we shaU not advance far in this path, 
unless we have a notion of its character. To make experi- 
ments is to lay questions before nature ; but he alone can do 
that beneficially who knows what he should ask. Through 
the whole art of experience it is therefore necessary that, 
upon one side, the inquirer should constantly retain the 
whole in his view — for otherwise it is impossible to have a 
clear representation of the parts; on the other side, that 
he should regard nothing as beneath his attention, for it 
still belongs to the whole. He should never forget that the 
forces by which life and motion are preserved throughout 
nature are found in the least and most insignificant as weU 
as in the greatest and most remarkable objects. Then he 
will enter upon his work with the utmost earnestness and 
attention, reverentially acknowledging that it is the Eternal 
Source of nature who speaks to him, even in the most 
insignificant object. With this spirit and with this con- 
stant view of the whole, occupations which are frequently 
troublesome, and which enter into the smallest trifles, lose 
their insignificance to him; he elevates them to himself, and 
does not allow himself to be drawn down by them. He does 



458 THE spiKiT a:sd study 

not content himself with a single one-sided experience. He 
seeks everywhere to combine it with others, to deduce the 
one from the other, and to arrange all in such a manner, 
that the whole course of observations or experiments repre- 
sent one natural law. The same object is therefore exposed 
to the most different actions ; the same action is tried, if not 
upon all bodies, which woidd be impossible, yet upon many 
of each division, and on the most remarkable, which chiefly 
differ from one another. We must besides search for the same 
effect as variously as possible in the observations, and pro- 
duce them in the greatest variety of forms in the experiment 
(this is called, to vary the experiment), in order thence to be 
able to see, with so much the more distinctness and cer- 
tainty, the conditions under which they occur. It is only by 
giving the observations and experiments which are made 
such a connection, such a?i extension and variety^ that his 
labour can procm*e him knowledge, and become more than 
an imperfect account of an isolated phenomenon. If in one 
or more connected experiments he has seen a certain series of 
phenomena, which succeeded one another in a determined 
order, he begins his experiment from the opposite side, in 
order to see whether all follow in the reversed order, that is, 
the experiment must be made in both the opposed directions 
that are possible ; it is said in chemistry, that a proof is only 
complete when it is both analytical and synthetical. If it is 
possible by observations to follow the same course, this must 
naturally happen. In this manner we are most certainly 
convinced that we have had the correct representation of the 
connection of natural events. Yet, with all this, we might 
be easily deceived if we allowed circumstances which were 
foreign to the purport of the inquiry to be mingled with 
it. When this happens, the observation on the experiment 
is different from what we expected, and with regard to this 
idea, we say that it is not pure. Therefore, in observation 
we must turn all possible attention to the surrounding cir- 
cumstances. In experiments which refer to the natm-e of 
matter, we must only select it pure, free from extraneous 
matter, and where it depends on the form we must procure 
instruments whose perfection for the attainment of the given 
end most nearly approaches mathematical exactitude ; but 
since we can seldom exhibit an object which perfectly harmo- 
nizes with the idea, we must endeavour to discover the devia- 



OF UNIVERSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 459 

tions, and bring their influence to bear ; in chemistry we 
must, therefore, consider the nature and magnitude of the 
unavoidable impurities ; we must also know and calculate 
upon the imperfections in the instruments of measurement, 
and thus everywhere penetrate to the idea through the senses. 
If to all this we still add a complete statement of all the 
observations, or the definitions, belonging to the experiment, 
so that when each alteration is noted down its magnitude is 
confirmed, and its connection with others and its mutual rela- 
tion to outward circumstances is not lost sight of, the expla- 
nation is exact. Finally, the naturalist, in order to be certain 
that his senses have not deceived him, must frequently repeat 
his observations and experiments. 

§ 13. In Natural Philosophy the experimental manner of 
proceeding is wholly dominant, on which account, as has been 
previously remarked, it is exclusively named Experimental 
Natm-al Philosophy. It first originated indeed in daily expe- 
rience and observation, and still derives its most important 
nourishment from these, though they have almost vanished 
from its reports and representation. It belongs to the spirit of 
Natural Philosophy to turn each experience and each observa- 
tion, as much as possible, into an experiment; indeed, it 
even endeavours thus to express the knowledge that has been 
gained by reflection. The friend of nature delights in 
observing her operations ; he will be enabled frequently to 
recall them to his senses ; he is anxious to know them as 
accurately as possible, and from all sides : he must therefore 
be master of the investigation. Thither must the experi- 
ment lead him. Yet everything does not depend on that 
alone. Experimental art will only then have attained its 
completion, when it enables us to represent all the laws of 
nature in a series of operations. Meanwhile^ however much 
our art must remain below this ideal, still it is its ideal, to 
which it must aspire, if it is desirous to have a firm basis in 
itself, and not to be merely a collection of tricks. By this 
comprehensive experimental statement. Natural Philosophy 
acquires immediately a greater solidity; for the mere con- 
clusions of reason alone, however profound they may be in 
themselves, yet presuppose that the representation, which we 
have formed of the object of inquiry, really agrees with them. 
Yet in this respect we easily deceive ourselves. In nature, 
so many circumstances operate at every point, that we may 



460 THE SPIEIT AND STUDY 

easily overlook one or the other, and in consequence imagine 
a representation which does not perfectly correspond with the 
object. But if the experiment proceeds hand-in-hand with 
thought, an error is only possible by several mistakes en- 
countering one another. 

§ 14. We may, however, regard experimental art from a 
still higher power of view. It has moulded itself into a 
peculiar creative art {Nachschaffungs-hmst), not merely in 
order to behold the external world, or to discover its nature, 
but at the same time to transfer our souls into creative 
activity, so as by that means to produce a more harmonious, 
living, and powerful knowledge of the constant development 
of nature. Its peculiarity is the creative mode of proceeding 
(the genetic method), and it does not happen only when 
we are surrounded by material objects, but it is also per- 
fectly at home in all which is alone exhibited to the inner 
sense. If we conceive a point which allows itself to be 
moved, in order to describe a line, or a line moving round 
one of its terminal points, in order with the other to describe 
a circle, what is that but an experimental idea ? The dif- 
ferential and integral calculation consists entirely in such 
mental experiments and such contemplations. Wliere this 
mode of procedure takes place (and it does so much more 
frequently than we imagine), it is particularly calculated 
to satisfy the endeavours of a lively and powerful thirst for 
knowledge; for through other kinds of representation we 
generally learn more ivhy one inust he convinced that this or 
that is the case, than xchy it really is so. Here we see the 
origin of every truth. The origin of its existence and of our 
certainty therefore coincide, so that if it is represented in 
this manner, it is already proved. If it now belongs to the 
nature of natural philosophy, to let us foUow the develop- 
ment of the ideas of the thing, it is evident that we must 
often take refuge in those experimental ideas which hitherto 
we have too much overlooked. Kant has given us, in his 
metaphysical rudiments of natural science, the most beau- 
tiful examples of this representation, yet without bringing 
forward the view introduced here. 

§ 15. Mathematics take considerable part in the explana- 
tion of natural philosophy, but they belong also to the very 
nature of the thing. Each change, and likewise each por- 
tion of these changes, has indeed its magnitude. These 



OF UXITEKSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 461 

magnitudes, as well as the manner in which they result from 
one another, can only be determined by the aid of mathe- 
matics. The doctrine of motion is almost entirely changed 
into mathematics. The doctrine of forces^' awaits the in- 
ventive spirit, which may lead it to the same point, for the 
inner forces are exhibited to us in time and space, and 
their laws can only then be considered as perfectly known, 
when we can represent all apparent relations in their true 
magnitude. Many of the most distinguished labourers in 
natural philosophy have too strenuously endeavoured to im- 
press upon it the form of mathematics, or rather Euclid's 
geometry, whence it was regarded as an applied mathematics. 
By that means we deprive science of its natm-al form. The 
mathematician endeavours to deduce all his propositions from 
the smallest number of single fundamental truths; all other 
views are sacrificed to an artificial severity in the proof. 
Even in the applied parts of his science, where he must 
bori'ow certain fundamental experiences, next to clearness 
and precision, he seeks solely to be as independent as possible. 
The naturalist, on the other hand, especially endeavours to 
find the most direct connection between the operations of the 
various forces of nature. The experiences which the mathe- 
matician can only borrow, are to him a property. He does 
not, therefore, fear to use them abundantly as his proofs, if 
he can only represent them with the clear impression of their 
inward connection ; therefore, he often deduces propositions 
direct from the nature of an action, which the mathematician 
discovers only by a circuitous route from some fundamental 
truth, on which the latter prefers to build. Applied mathe- 
matics and natural philosophy thus treat of the same subject, 
and have this also in common, that they wish to show us the 
reasonable connection between the same things ; but the one 
will show it as it were by compulsion, and is satisfied with an 
artificial connection when it can find no natural one ; the 
other, on the contrary, will see the thing in its most natural, 

* In the first edition of this paragraph, and also previously, I have 
entitled the doctrine of forces, all those portions of physics which are 
not the simple doctrine of motion ; and the same with the doctrine of 
the laws of chemical combinations and separations, the doctrine of elec- 
tricity, magnetism, and the action of heat and light. However much all 
these operations point to inward movements, I have not hitherto been 
willing to change the name of Doctrine of Forces. 



462 THE SPIKIT AND STUDY 

or we may rather say in its immediate connection with reason, 
and is contented with no other. We may, therefore, indeed 
assert, that both must encounter one another at a certain 
degree of perfection. Mathematics and natural philosophy 
must everyw^here approach an inward union. The former re- 
presents the natural laws for magnitudes, the latter the laws for 
objects which have magnitude, and which coincide with it in 
every operation. The one has, therefore, at all times con- 
tributed to the development of the other. If the former has 
presented to the latter somewhat of its certainty and its power 
of invention, the latter has again presented the former many 
new and essentially constitueut parts, and will certainly add 
still more by the development of the doctrine of forces. We 
have brought natural philosophy sufficiently near, perhaps too 
near, to mathematics : it is probably time that mathematics 
should endeavour to approach natural philosophy. Geometry 
in its present form will always be one of the most splendid 
monuments of the human mind, and will serve to exercise and 
sharpen the understanding by its inward perfection; but may 
not another mode of explanation be able to subsist along with 
it, in which all geometrical propositions may be represented by 
a series of experimental ideas ? We should by that means open 
for mathematics a far brighter and more immediate insight 
into the actual source of each truth, and a much closer 
amalgamation between it and natural philosophy would thus 
be gained than formerly existed. The progress of natm^al 
philosophy will, on its side, forward this amalgamation; for 
the farther it advances the more it will succeed to refer all 
operations to individual forces, whose power and condition, 
in time and space, will constitute its essential object. By 
that means our science must change itself into a mathematics 
of nature, which certainly, both in form as in contents, will 
far surpass what has hitherto existed.* 

§ 16. 'When we discover the universal natural law which a 
phenomenon obeys, or when we refer a more limited natural 

* I had already attempted a representation of geometry, as above 
described (namely, after the genetic method), before the publication of 
this programme. I can no longer hope to accomplish this work. One 
of my former pupils, Mr. Rector Siemesen, in Helsingor, has adopted the 
idea, but has treated it independently, according to his own views. 
There are also some far earlier attempts of this kind. Besides all this, 
there is yet more to be accomplished. 



OF UNIVEKSAL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 463 

law to a more universal one, we say it is explained. It may 
be thought that we comprehend a less distributed operation 
under one more widely distributed, and in this manner the 
explanation of the operation is viewed as the testimony of its 
cause. When we do not clearly see what natural law is 
obeyed by an operation, or by a union of operations, we 
endeavour to obviate this want by a presupposition. We have 
bestowed on these presuppositions the name of hypotheses. 
W^e must view them really, as an experimental idea, by which 
we can discover whether anything can be explained by a 
certain presupposition, included with the remaining laws of 
nature. If we find that everj' thing in a rich and many- 
sided experience, may be understood by presuppositions, we 
admit it to be true. If, on the other hand, we find a cir- 
cumstance opposed to the presupposition, it is rejected; we 
then seek for a new one, which is perhaps again overthrown by 
a similar trial ; and so on till we meet with one which is not 
destroyed by the trial. When an hj'pothesis is not indeed 
refuted by experience, but yet does not explain ever^^thing 
that it should explain, we regard it as more or less probable, 
in proportion to the completeness of the explanation. The 
task of investigation has not therefore been entirely solved, 
which tends to destroy conjecture as conjecture, either by a 
perfect confirmation or by a perfect contradiction ; but it 
remains as a question proposed upon a principle ; and so 
regarded, it remains as a conjecture to he proved^ or as a 
probable supposition^ which we endeavour to place in connec- 
tion with the rest of philosophy. Every conjecture may really 
be regarded at once from both sides, but in general there is a 
preponderance on one side, so that either there is a strong 
demand for farther investigations, or the probability must 
be taken almost solely into consideration, because the present 
condition of the thing permits no further inquiry. The 
former appear as active, living elements, in the develop- 
ment of science ; the latter, on the contrary, often hinder its 
progress, since they take such root with those who are 
controlled by habit, that they are defended as if they were 
confirmed truths. 

§ 17. The complete confirmation of an hypothesis or its 
transition to a state of certainty, requires that all the conse- 
quences which are deduced from the admitted presupposition 
should really coincide in experience. If we could have 



464 THE SPIRIT AND STUDY 

deduced from it all possible results, and found them all con- 
firmed, then the hypothesis would be changed into certainty ; 
for it is impossible that two different causes can produce 
effects which are in every respect similar. But since our 
knowledge and experiences are limited, we must be content 
to go as far in this respect as our powers will permit. First, 
the hypothesis must be expressed with the utmost simplicity 
and clearness. This circumstance is of the greatest import- 
ance, and its neglect has caused incalculable confusion. We 
must then deduce from the assumed presupposition as many 
direct results as we can derive. If experience contradicts 
some of them in such a way that we cannot hope to solve the 
difl&culty, the fate of the hypothesis is thus also at the same 
time settled. On the other hand, if the-' results deduced 
harmonize with the experiences which have been compared, 
we must further prove whether the results of continued con- 
clusions also harmonize with the reality, and whether this is 
also the case in combined relative conditions. If this be the 
case, and in such a manner that not only every part of the 
operations which have been investigated take place, but that 
they also take place in the same order, and exhibit themselves 
in that degree of magnitude in which they ought to exhibit 
themselves according to the results which have been deduced 
from the presuppositions, and if they at length fail, when by the 
same results they should fail, probability has passed into cer- 
tainty ; for in order that all this should take place, innumerable 
circumstances must really coincide, although but small portions 
of them attract our notice, and thence the probability is in- 
finite, that is, certainty. In this coincidence of ideas with 
experience, the harmony of the magnitudes which are calcu- 
lated upon with the real magnitudes is of immense import- 
ance, and is almost alone sufficient for confirmation ; because 
in an infinite number of possible cases, exactly the one given 
harmonizes with the calculation. We could in this manner 
confirm even a presupposed cause, or a probable natural law, 
which has never come forward in experience. But in such a 
case there must be the most perfect and many-sided coin- 
cidence between conclusions and experiences, and here, 
perhaps, we should never satisfy the just demands of science. 
For the sake of trial, such an hypothesis may be permitted, 
since it may lead to the discovery of what was hitherto un- 
known, although it must always be regarded as easily leading 



OF UNIVEESAL NATUEAL PHILOSOPHY. 465 

to what is false ; but if assumed as a probable supposition in 
science, by which it becomes more closely connected with the 
other elements of science, it is objectionable. Therefore an 
hypothesis which is permitted in the system of science ought 
only to relate to the connection between a cause or a universal 
law of nature, of whose existence we are certain, and whose 
action or more limited natural law we would from it explain. 
Finally, we must especially avoid mingling hypotheses with 
the declared truths of science. In this respect we must dis- 
tinguish between the connection and the union of many 
phenomena which are always expressed by hypotheses, and 
the opinion on the unknown causes of effects, which with 
them will equally force themselves on our notice. If we 
can but perceive this clearly, and, rejecting the latter, hold 
fast alone to the former, we shall seldom be losers. 



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